A Bad Case of Amnesia
by AzaleaBlue
Summary: After an unplanned night of passion, Hermione finds she is pregnant. But her troubles don't end there, she is still at school and they are not exactly dating, yet... Oh, and Ron doesn't even remember the night. AU. No Voldemort. Read detailed author note inside. Please R&R.
1. Topsy-Turvy

**A/N:**

 **Please Read (Apologies in advance for the lengthy note)**

 **TOTALLY AU. No Voldemort, no deaths (James, Lily and Sirius are all alive), just a tale of our favourite couple in the seventh year. Just your normal love story.**

 **This story is dedicated to the first ever Romione I read back in 2005 (or 2006?) on Checkmated. Sadly, it was neither completed nor do I remember its title or the author's name. In it, Hermione leaves the wizarding world after realising she is pregnant without even telling Ron the truth. Years later, when their child is of age to go to Hogwarts, she gets in touch with Harry to keep an eye on her daughter and not let her (or Ron) know the truth. The child finally goes to Hogwarts and sees the picture of a red-haired woman on her DADA teacher's (Harry's) desk and wrongly assumes him to be her father (she had red hair and freckles). Unfortunately, that is where the story was left and never completed, and I have never been able to track it back.**

 **So, if by any chance the Author of that fic is reading this, I wish to tell you, this story is dedicated to you. I hope you have finished the story and please send me the link, I still wish to read it.**

 **In all honesty, this plot(pregnant Hermione) is a little cliché now. There are so many of these, and in case you find this way too similar to anything you have read before, please let me know and I'll take it off. After spending years and years reading Romiones, one kind of loses track of all plots that one has read. This idea came to me and I had to pen it down. It is possible that I might have read this long back and forgotten, and my brain is playing tricks with me now. In that case, please let me know. I don't wish to pass someone else's story as my own and will humbly and apologetically take it down. If not, I will be way too happy to share it with you.**

 **This story will be 10 chapters long. The whole of it is all planned and ready and unless I take it off, I will post one chapter every week till it's done.**

 **I would obviously love to know what you guys think of it, so please keep those reviews coming. And thank you for reading!**

 **Characters are the sole property of J K Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.**

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 **Chapter 1: Topsy-Turvy**

The old and dodgy looking back alley was quite possibly not the best place to Apparate to. A little bit of miscalculation and he would be standing at the dump, not the best thing to happen when he was going to meet the girl he had been secretly fancying all these years; especially not if the said girl was also one of his best friends and someone who was currently living in one of those uptown bungalows with her strict Muggle parents.

Grinning to himself on noticing that he had, for once, managed to land exactly where he had intended, Ron quickened his pace but not before straightening his jacket and running a hand through his Apparition-messed up hair. It was quite possible that she wouldn't even notice, and he would never actually admit it to anyone (not even Harry) that he really put in an effort today to look dapper. The sad part was that this wasn't his first attempt but fifth to get her attention in some way in this past one month. Unfortunately, every time he coaxed himself to leave not-so-subtle hints and take it a little further, he usually chickened out the last minute.

Brave little Gryffindor that he was, he thought morosely quickening his steps. Her place wasn't too far from here. A quick walk and he would be able to make it in six to seven minutes; his heart and feet both speeded up as a curious little bubble erupted in the chest region at the thought of seeing her after so long. One month, two weeks and one day, to be precise- since the day school had closed for their summer holidays post their Sixth Year, since the time she had walked off with her parents from the King's Cross station. Yes, he was counting.

He passed a couple of florists debating internally if he ought to pick some flowers for her but chuckled to himself nervously at the thought. Hermione would think of him as an imposter if he did that, and more importantly, he didn't really have the extra money for such little wishes. Instinctively, he put his hand in his pocket feeling the few Sickles and Knuts that jingled around in the large empty space. At least, he would be able to afford to buy her a Butterbeer today and perhaps even an ice cream from the Fortescue's. That is what he had in mind since he signed up for doing odd jobs for the twins during the vacation. He did not prefer much to be their product tester, especially when he had to eat or drink dodgy looking stuff, but a man had to do something to earn a few extra Knuts. Hermione would never really mind paying for the two of them, and honestly, their friendship was way above petty monetary issues but that didn't mean he didn't wish to take her out at times, and buy her a drink or a book, perhaps?

It was as if his ever eager feet had carried him faster than he had imagined, and he suddenly found himself at the Granger's lawn. He paused right away. The Grangers were not exactly anti- Wizards but they were not really as friendly as Harry's parents were. In fact, he had a feeling that they were a little uncomfortable with him, a tad bit more than they were with Harry, although he had no solid proof to back his assumptions. They were civil to him but not very warm on the rare occasions that he had come down to pick Hermione from her home. Ron sincerely hoped she would have told them about the party, and they would allow her to go. He wondered for a brief second if it would have been better to bring Harry along but shook off that idea right away. He wanted to do this alone. He wanted to stroll around the streets and take a Muggle bus or those underground trains or whatever they were called before they reached the party at Leaky Cauldron. He wanted some time alone with her, and hadn't Harry planned to go with Ginny, anyway? Perhaps. His head was too full of subtly suggesting in his owls if they could spend some extra time together and phrase it very casually at the same time to bother what others were planning.

Realising that he had spent about five full minutes standing out on the lawn like an idiot, he quickly moved ahead, pulling the jacket once more and nervously rubbing the back of his neck which was sure to have turned red by now. On hindsight, he should have never allowed his Mum to have given him that short haircut, at least his longer locks had hidden his flaming neck each time she had come closer last year, but now that was a lost chance. Taking a quick deep breath, licking his lips and blowing out softly through his mouth, he pressed the small button on the side of the wall.

The door opened a moment later, and he quickly arranged the goofy grin that had appeared on his face as he anticipated (hoped in fact) her running into his arms as she opened the door to find him. However, it was not Hermione but a much elder version of her who was at the other side.

Dr Jane Granger looked at him with a polite smile that did not reach her eyes, and he mumbled an awkward greeting, mentally kicking himself for messing it up right at the start.

"Ronald," she said softly and gestured him inside, closing the door behind him.

"Um..." he stammered not quite sure what to say to her next. The Grangers made him a little uneasy. In all honesty, he was a little surprised (and extremely thankful) that they allowed Hermione to go to Hogwarts at all.

"I don't know if Hermione has told you but we are expected at the Annual Gryffindor Bash tonight, and I'm here to pick her up," he added haltingly as she watched him curiously.

"Yes, she did mention it," she replied leaving no doubts in his mind that she did not fancy letting her daughter party with her school friends who were obviously Magical. At times he wondered if McGonagall had threatened them with dire consequences if they did not allow Hermione to learn magic.

He stood there wondering if he was supposed to remain standing or walk up to the living area or perhaps go to her room because the lady was obviously giving him a look over with serious contemplation in her eyes. Thankfully for him, Hermione chose that minute to come to his aid. He heard her before he saw her as she yelled from the top of the stairs.

"Mum, is it Ron?" she inquired, looking pretty in a pale blue summer dress that swirled at her knees and showed off her shapely legs. Ron turned at the voice instinctively and the smile that he had hidden away made an appearance again, much broader this time.

"Yes, he is, dear," replied the elderly witch stiffly. "And it's not good manners to yell so loudly," she added.

"Sorry, Mum," Hermione replied biting her tongue and send a small glance and smile his way which was enough to make his stupid heart flutter a little more than before.

"Hey there..." he added softly and she waved at him and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, definitely conscious about her appearance. He didn't know why she was so shy whenever she dressed like this, though; he thought she looked perfect and stunning.

"I need to grab my coat and purse. And I have a few books to return to the Florish's Library. Mind coming upstairs for a bit?" she asked cautiously, and he could have literally levitated himself up the stairs out of sheer joy. But he remembered that Dr Jane Granger was still watching and chose to shrug his shoulders casually instead.

"Yeah, sure," he replied and giving a brief nod to the lady who was watching them with a tiny hint of a frown, proceeded to climb up the stairs slowly, barely controlling the urge to run up and pull her into his arms (in a friendly way of course).

"You look beautiful," he whispered as he got near and the two walked down the corridor towards her room. She met his eyes with a smile that made her cheeks go pink, and he somehow managed to hold back the maddening urge to kiss her right there. To hell will subtle messages, he was going insane about her.

"You look good too," she smiled and his shoulders straightened up a little more. She noticed!

"Did your Mum give you the haircut?" she asked softly.

"Umm, yeah, you know how persistent she can get," he mumbled consciously, running his hand through the much shorter fringe at his temple.

"It's nice," she added with another of those tiny smiles he wanted to keep for himself. Their eyes remained locked for a minute longer before she pushed open the door.

"Hey, you ready to leave?"

Ron turned with brows scrunched at the sound that was definitely not hers but coming from her room. Yes, there was definitely a male, a little older than them perhaps, sitting at her desk.

An ugly green monster reared its head in his chest, and he glanced at the young man and Hermione, who had gone more than a little uncomfortable.

She met his questioning eyes consciously before squaring up her shoulders a little. He had known her way too long to understand that she was just working herself to deal with the situation.

"David, meet Ron. Ron, this is David" she introduced confidently, and the man came up to shake his hand. Ron would have loved his fist to meet the wanker's jaw, to be honest, but forced a smile.

"Ron is my friend from school," she added.

"Best friend," he injected gripping the man's hand a little harder, taking him all in. He was tall, almost as tall as him and fairly good looking with blond hair and glasses. He looked very much like a person who spent his time hidden behind books.

"David is Dad's student. He hails from Canada and is here at Dad's University on an exchange program."

"I come here to meet Professor Granger about my course, obviously, but Hermione is an amazingly brilliant person to talk to," smiled David with a glance at Hermione's direction. Ron wondered if Dr Jane Granger would fix the moron's jaws for free in case he gave their dear student a nice punch in the face, or two perhaps.

"Yeah, Hermione is brilliant; she's the best at school," he added with a subtle warning in the tone that if the highly educated buffoon would understand translated into get-the-fuck-away-from-my-girl in guy code.

"I bet she is!" he grinned. "I always held a keen interest in ancient history, and I love her intense knowledge on the subject. Conversations with her are always so fascinating!" he gushed on, and Ron noticed Hermione blush under their combined gazes. "Even her knowledge on dentistry is amazing considering she is still at school. I was telling her that she should really try enrolling in my university," he went on pissing Ron all the more.

"No, she can't do that. What she wishes to pursue is not taught at your university," he replied before Hermione could comment or the guy could blabber anymore. David's face fell, and Hermione glared at him but he didn't think she was overtly angry.

"Really?" the guy added looking at her.

"What Ron means is that since I wish to pursue Law I cannot possibly enrol in your university," she explained while Ron tapped his foot a little impatiently. Here he was planning on getting some extra time with her, and now they were stuck chatting to this clingy, flirty bugger instead.

"Hermione, we really ought to leave," he told her not bothering that he was offending her guest. In his defence, the moron had offended him way more in this short span of time.

It felt like a long time before David finally left, and she picked up her travelling coat and other things and they moved out of the house and away from the combined glares of her parents into the open air.

He exhaled soundly as they left the house behind and she swatted him playfully on the arm. Feigned hurt he turned at her as she rolled her eyes and shook her head, and his heart melted a little more.

"That was plain rude what you did there!" she admonished but with a definite hint of a laugh.

"Really?" he asked pushing away his chagrin. He had waited way too long for this time with her to waste it by being pissed off for a nuisance of a Muggle.

"I thought I spared you from incessant flattery that would bloat your head to monstrous proportions!" he replied mimicking her tone and Hermione giggled as he relaxed further, stopping himself just in time from holding her hand.

"He is really nice, you know," she said and he snorted, the green monster rearing his head again.

"No really, I mean he tends to get a little nervous in front of people and blabber but he is really smart and Dad thinks he is one of the brightest he has ever taught." Ron looked away from her and kicked a pebble on the road much harder than necessary. She didn't seem to notice.

"It's just that he like books a lot, just like me," she added, flustered for some reason.

Fantastic, now they were going to talk about _David_ in detail.

"Does he come to your place often?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"He comes a few times a week. He is leaving in another ten days, you see, and is trying to pick up as much as he can from Dad," she explained. He is trying to pick up a lot of other things too, he thought grumpily.

"And he just walks into your room, I suppose?" he asked without looking at her but concentrating on the road instead. That was totally over the line, and he just about made out her stiffening a little.

"He loves to see my collection of books, knows a lot about a lot of subjects," she explained in a tone he couldn't really figure.

"How are we travelling?" she asked when he did not comment.

"Apparating," he replied sourly.

...

The party was in full swing. It had been a regular custom from the days his parents were at school or perhaps even before that time, no one really knew. One day in August, the Gryffindors, the current batches of years five to seven and also the ex-students all came together to catch-up. However, to avoid parents turning up and spoiling the fun, the gates were open to students, not more than four years senior to the current seventh-year batch.

For one day every year, the Leaky Cauldron was booked solely for this purpose. He had heard stories that way earlier, the pub took in regular guests as well but that had come to a stop since that one time when some students had planned multiple dung bombs in every room causing the guests to leave fuming and breathless. Since then, Tom and decided for the benefit of his establishment to keep the weak-hearted adults away from the bunch of high teenagers.

Back when Ron had been in their fourth year, the twins had described it as the better vision of Yule Ball, albeit with a lot of free drinks, abundant food, loud music and crazy bets. What they had perhaps kept from their younger brother was that it was also a night of over the top flirting and random hookups. That sight had pretty much shocked his and Harry's comparatively innocent eyes the first time they had attended the yearly bash. Later, they had deduced that the twins had purposely refrained from disclosing the truth only to enjoy the utter shock on their faces.

Hermione, on the other hand, was never quite comfortable with all the public displays of affection. Why she still attended it every year was still a mystery to him. She never picked up Firewhiskey before she legally came of age, and even after that, stuck to holding one glass for the whole evening, occasionally taking small sips from it. She didn't overly enjoy the chaotic atmosphere either but was sport enough to sit with them for quite a few hours, and even share a few casual dances with him and Harry before she went back home. And, thankfully, although she did have quite a few suitors grappling for her attention, not once had he found her in someone else's arms, not after the Yule Ball where she had gone with that Bulgarian Seeker he now despised. He also secretly blamed himself for that fiasco in their fourth year, though he never agreed or acknowledged openly that perhaps she would have gone with him if he had asked her first. And that was pretty much the reason why every year since their fifth, he made it a point to pick her up from her place to the pub and drop her home too (albeit a lot grudgingly).

As the night progressed, the band shifted from foot-thumping numbers to slower music. Many couples were now seen swaying softly to the music, a bigger number had moved into various parts, hidden in the shadows and sometimes the rooms. It was an unspoken treaty that whatever happened this one night remained here, although most of the time, relationships were made and broken depending upon the events that proceeded the alcoholic high.

He picked up another shot of Firewhiskey and swirled the liquid in the goblet. Despite the little unpleasant start, the night had progressed well. Just like the previous years, he, Harry, Hermione and Ginny had sat together watching their classmates and seniors make a fool out of themselves. They had watched Parvati kiss an unsuspecting Neville and noticed multiple couples sneak away into different nooks and corners, betting amongst themselves how many of these would last the night. Sometime in between, Harry and Ginny had moved away to dance and they hadn't come back; Ron wasn't exactly complaining. Those two had been dating for a while now, and honestly, he had more pressing issues than bothering about his sister and his best mate.

He took another gulp hoping the alcohol would help control his nerves a bit more and turned at her. She was sitting next to him, quite close in fact, with a goofy smile plastered on her lips.

"What 'ya laughing at?" he asked shaking his head as a strange sensation ran down his arms. He looked at the drink again and pondered if it smelled or tasted different. A sudden flash occurred in front of his eyes and he dropped the goblet back. Perhaps he had drunk too much or eaten anything strange? Nah, nothing, just the same food everyone had had and a few generous shots.

"Nothing," she said and giggled a bit. Now that was odd. Hermione didn't usually giggle.

"How many shots have you had?" he asked noticing how the tied up hair was now coming loose, and the mesmerising way those brown tendrils framed her face, swaying softly. He would love to wrap his finger around one as he pulled her closer for the kiss, he thought. His brain gave a whoop. Yes, he would absolutely love that.

"One," she said bringing up her finger almost close to his nose and shook her head and held up three fingers instead.

"No, two or three, I think!" she replied cheerfully.

"What?! Hermione, you never drink that much!" he gasped holding her by her upper arm as she held the goblet in both her hands and swayed slightly, grinning to herself. At his words, she looked surprised and turned towards him.

"Oh, I don't?" she asked scrunching her brows and tilted her head slightly to flash him a smile.

"I should drink more. Makes me feel brave," she added gazing at him, smiling serenely.

"You are already brave, very brave," he told her softly looking at her eyes and those lips that were practically begging to be kissed.

She shook her head sadly. "No, I am not brave Ron, I am just a dumb, stupid girl..." she answered and he chuckled softly.

"Are you even talking about yourself? You, and dumb?"

"Yeah!" she sighed, looked at the goblet and then pushed herself up but her balance was off and she swayed slightly as he quickly got up and placed an arm around her.

"Where are you going?" he asked tenderly, supporting her form with an arm around her shoulder, and she placed a hand over his fast beating chest for balance. He took her half-filled goblet and kept it aside, realising that this girl in his arms was way better than Firewhiskey. Heck, she was better than anything and everything in his life.

Gently, he guided her away from the noise and the crowd and glanced at the large clock that hung next to them with a sigh.

"I have to drop you home, but doesn't seem you are fit enough for it," he told her.

"But I don't want to go home, Ron!" she replied a little sadly and surprising, rather shocking him, touched a finger on his lips watching him curiously.

"I love your lips," she declared, and he was sure he had forgotten how to breathe, or think for that matter.

"I want to stay here, with you," she murmured again and he could feel goosebumps erupt all over his arms.

"You are drunk," he told her, taking deep breaths and reminding himself that she was probably sloshed and had no clue what she was doing or saying.

"Good," she replied nodding, "Merlin knows I needed a few shots to tell you that," she added, though.

"Tell me what exactly?" he asked despite himself.

"That I love being here," she said nuzzling into his chest. He let out a soft sigh and pulled her closer wondering if she would remember all this when she woke up in the morning. He hoped she would...

"So, you needed to be drunk to hug me?" he asked with a grin.

"No, you idiot!" she laughed and he loved that sound, "I needed the absence of rational thinking that comes with drinking," she replied. "I needed to stop being scared and confess," she added softly, looking a tad bit less drunk (he hoped).

"Confess what exactly, Hermione?" he asked even as his heart drummed madly, louder than the loudest band.

"Confess that I always wanted to do this," she stated and stood up on her toes to kiss him on the lips.

...

She woke up feeling a little disoriented. The bed was soft but smelled strange, she thought with her eyes still closed. And her body, especially her legs and hips hurt; nothing bad, but a dull ache really. She tried opening her eyes, but after a few unsuccessful tries gave it up to remain cooped up for just a while longer. It was then that she realised that an arm was wrapped around her, around her waist in fact, and Hermione sat up in shock only to notice that she was completely naked. And there was definitely someone next to her.

The person grunted softly in his sleep and held her tighter, his fingers curling at her sides over the curve of her bum, and she gulped hard.

What had she done last night?

She turned around fearfully, and holding her breath, carefully pulled down the cover that was draped all over her companion. The moment the redhead came into view her heart practically stopped beating.

The shock of finding her best friend and object of fantasy lying next to her (and completely starkers, too!) caused her to hide her face in her hands as blood rushed up her face, colouring her crimson. She looked down at her naked self as memories of the past night slowly began to unwind. She was glad that Ron was still asleep, not a surprise really after the workout they had had in this room. The testimony of their act was scattered all around them. The deep blue t-shirt he had been wearing was lying limp on the lone chair, his jeans pooled a few spaces ahead on the ground next to-, she gulped hard, -her dress and her bra. His boxers were lying on the bed and her knickers were on his pillow.

Oh, what a fine mess she had put them into!

She definitely remembered kissing him first and blushed at the memory. He had been shocked; she couldn't blame him, but then she had kissed him again, and this time, he had paused only for a minute before kissing her back. Even the alcohol induced high was insignificant in comparison. How they had managed to reach the room was anyone's guess. She knew from past experience that people hardly bothered who went with whom or where during this one night. If they were lucky enough, no one would have noticed them.

She turned a little towards him, blushing again at the sight of his pale, freckled back. God, she loved him! She didn't even know since when. But never before had she been able to gather the guts to confess, and only always hoped that Ron would understand. Of late, she thought Ginny was perhaps right, maybe he fancied her too. But the fear of losing him to a misjudgement had held her back. Well, now that scope was off the window. Here she was, naked and in bed with her ginger-haired best-friend, and by the look of it all, she had given much more than her confession last night.

Breathing deeply to appease her thundering heart, she moved away carefully, not to wake him up before she was at least dressed up. Obviously, she had needed the kick alcohol provided to let herself go with the flow and overcome her insecurities about her body. But now it was morning, and the effects of liquor had diminished significantly making her conscious again.

She carefully removed his arm from around her, the same one she held on to so often in a casual friendly way, but now the skin on her arms tingled at his touch, and she moved away as quietly as she could to pick up their scattered clothing. Placing all of his ones on the bed (she had nearly fainted in embarrassment as she picked his boxers), she moved quickly into the attached bath after collecting her wand from the bedside table.

"Okay, breathe!" she told herself once she locked herself in.

She looked at her dishevelled appearance in the mirror and gulped hard. Her cheeks would be permanently red at this rate.

Running her fingers through her hair to arrange the now frizzy mess, she forced herself to think.

Alright, how bad could it be? They had both got into it of their free will, hadn't they? And, Ron wouldn't sleep with her if he didn't feel anything for her, right? No, he wouldn't. That thought gave her hope. They could deal with this like mature adults. Perhaps it was all for the best, she deduced. At least their feelings were out on the table now and neither of them could shy away... Not after having sex, no-, she corrected herself, -not after making love.

She tapped on her dress to ease away the creases as a plan of action began formulating in her head. She would wash up and then wake him up, _and then_ , they would discuss what had happened. She could tell him what she had been feeling for years, after all, there was no point hiding it anymore.

As she busied herself washing up and arranging her hair to something resembling normalcy, she kept prepping herself, murmuring the conversation she was going to have with him.

However, when she came out, finally a little more confident than before, it was to find an empty room and no trace of Ron.

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 _ **A/N: Alright, there you are. Please let me know what you think of it. Also, let me know if I have lost it and am writing from memory (which I don't remember having).**_

 _ **Those of you following ISoH, fear not, I will post updates as regularly for it too. God knows, I needed a lighter story to keep me from going insane with all the angst I write for that one.**_

 _ **Thank you for reading. Please leave a review, please?**_


	2. Miserable Miscommunications

**A/N: Thanks to all of you for giving me a boost by reviewing and/or adding this story to your favourites/alerts. I am extremely happy to find that you loved the start. Here comes the next part. Enjoy.**

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 **Chapter 2: Miserable Miscommunications**

Harry woke up with a splitting headache and the tall form of his best mate pacing around the cluttered room with practised ease. He squinted as the bright morning light streaming in through the gaps in the curtains hit his eyes, and turned around to bury his face in the pillow because Ron's hazy and fast moving form was making him all the more dizzy.

He turned after a while, pushed himself into a sitting position, and pulled on his glasses from the bedside table that held an assortment of quills, his wand and Quidditch magazine cut-outs. As Ron's face got sharper, he noticed the confused expression on the taller face, and if he could guess correctly in that hung-over state, a slight amount of paranoia as well.

"Good morning to you too, Ron," he responded with a chuckle as the redhead's eyes moved over him twice without taking any notice.

"So, what did you mess up with Hermione now?" he added, stifling a yawn and wondering where he had stashed the Hungover Potion the twins had supplied.

Ron looked even worse at the statement, and stared at Harry blankly for a few minutes before collapsing back on the spare bed that was a permanent feature in Harry's room for this purpose itself- Ron staying over.

"I can't remember," muttered the other boy, grasping and pulling his hair with both hands, and finally supporting his head on them.

"You were that drunk, is it?" Harry inquired pushing off the cover and fumbling through his a messy drawer in the closet.

"I can't be, mate, I don't have a hangover at all, I just can't remember anything from last night. Nothing after-", he muttered before stopping leaving the rest of the sentence hanging.

"-after what?" he asked with a relieved sigh on finding the glass phial hiding behind his unfolded tees, uncorking and taking a deep swig from it.

As fuzziness in his head cleared, he smacked his lips and moved towards the other bed, handing out the potion to his best mate.

Ron looked from the bottle to Harry and shook his head, "Told ya, mate, I don't have a hangover."

"So what is it then?" he asked, hiding the phial back, but Ron only looked at him, lost in his own thoughts before shaking his head again.

"Nothing," he stated softly which clearly indicated something was definitely off. Harry decided not to probe further. He had no doubts what so ever, that whatever was bothering Ron had a lot to do about Hermione. His two best mates had spent six years now bickering away in public but secretly fancying each other all this while. It was amusing just as it was annoying because the two idiots didn't see what everyone else did- that they were crazy about each other. However, with the end of their Sixth year, Harry had seen Ron work up his courage to do something about taking his relationship with Hermione ahead, but so far, nothing had come of it apart from the ginger turning extremely confused and more obvious than he was before. They (him, Ginny and the twins) had in fact placed bets, with George and Ginny positive that something definite would come out of the Annual Bash, while he and Fred were not so confident about it. It now seemed that he was winning the bet, although, honestly speaking, he didn't feel so great about it.

"Talk to her," he suggested running his hand through his messed up hair and moving into the attached loo and grabbing his toothbrush.

"What do I tell her? That I don't remember dropping her home?" replied Ron morosely.

"Tell her the truth," Harry provided as his stomach gave a rumble and he wondered what was there for breakfast.

Ron, however, did not reply but walked over to the window, looking torn.

"Let's grab a bite, okay?" he suggested after he was done, and Ron responded with a meek 'yeah' before following him downstairs.

...

Hours later, back in his room and sitting on his bed, Ron let out yet another sigh, cursing himself silently.

What a perfect way to fuck up the chance he had been looking forward to for months!

He had come back from Harry's after an awesome meal cooked by his best mate's mum; but even his favourite chicken sandwich had failed to cheer him up, something, he was sure, Lily Potter had noticed. She had not commented of course, but lovingly served him a double helping of the apple pie with a small, knowing smile while James asked them about the night, reminiscing about their own days. He had escaped as early as he possibly could.

But even getting home had not been a respite. For some reason, Ginny had pestered him, asking him when he had dropped Hermione back, and in a moment hidden from their Mum, even hinted if he had let her go at all or kept her back with him for the night. He had left the room after a sharp reply, mainly because she had got so close- almost hitting a raw nerve.

He hadn't, couldn't in fact, told anyone how he had found himself in that room when he had woken up- naked and in a bed, without a girl but without any memory either of the night before. He didn't even know what to think. How did he end up there? The last thing he could remember was sitting next to Hermione and asking her something- perhaps about how drunk she was. But it was an impossible thing, Hermione never got drunk. And under no rational circumstances would she end up in a bed with him just for a one-night stand. That brought him to the scary part; if not Hermione then who did he sleep with?

There wasn't a girl or any sign of one having been there. He balled his fist, banging himself on the forehead.

What if there had been someone? What if that girl left before he woke up? What if she brought it out once they went back to school? What could he do? What would be the effect of this mistake on his currently-nothing-more-than-friendship-but-trying-to-be-so-much-more status with Hermione? How would she take it? And worst of all, how could he do something like this no matter how intoxicated he was? Sleep with a girl who was not Hermione?

He groaned aloud as another thought crept up. Had he dropped her home the previous night? If no, how did she get back? When had he gone to that room? He seriously hoped it wasn't in front of her. Actually, he hoped that he had been there by himself no matter how slim the chance of that might be.

Feeling the onset of a mild headache, he decided that all he could do was wait and watch for some girl to come up, and keep hoping at the same time that nothing of the sort happened. The party was open to the Gryffindors only; that narrowed his search to quite an extent. He would have to keep his eyes open for any girl in his house who showered him with extra attention- he hoped that would work, and perhaps he could explain to this mystery woman that it was a mistake which he was extremely apologetic about, for his heart belonged to another.

With a guilt riddled heart, he also decided that, for the sake of all that he felt for Hermione, he would have to keep all this hidden from her, at least till he figured out the truth or got back his memory. If nothing came up in the next couple of months, he would tell her the truth about his lost memory- if anything did, he would still confess, and ask for forgiveness.

Feeling only marginally better, he realised that there was also another thing to do- talk to Hermione and find out if she had reached home safe and apologise perhaps.

...

She had been sitting at her desk for an hour or possibly even longer. Her quill hung over the blank parchment and dripped ink on it, rendering it useless. But for once in her lifetime, Hermione was absolutely clueless about how to begin her letter.

What was she suppose to say? What was to be the tone of the letter- friendly and casual, or something more? How was she suppose to tell him that she had not left him and run like she was sure he had thought of on not finding her next to him? She hoped that Ron didn't think that she thought of it as a mistake, that couldn't be further from the truth. It might not have been the best way to get together, but she didn't regret it one bit.

A tiny part in her heart was worried- what if she was building castles in the air? What if he didn't think of it as seriously as she did? She pushed aside the uncomfortable thoughts- Ron wouldn't do that. He would not sleep with her just like that, they had been best of friends for years, she knew him well enough.

All her internal musings, however, still left her conscious about the letter she had been planning on penning down. She watched, without actually seeing, the cup of tea that sat on her desk and had long gone cold.

Taking a deep steadying breath, and pulling a piece of fresh parchment, she began-

' _Dear Ron'_ she wrote before scratching it off and changing it to _'Dearest Ron'_. Her cheeks glowed red at the memory of the morning and she scratched it again.

How many times in these past years had she wished to tell him everything she felt? A thousand times perhaps if not more. But she hadn't. Somehow all the Gryffindor risk taking didn't work in this case- there was much to lose. But she had hoped and waited for some sort of signal, some indication that he felt the same for her too. For around six months now, she thought she felt a change, they bickered less, and moments when they looked at each other casually during a conversation, turned into something else when the eyes remained locked in for longer before one of them looked away consciously, or someone interrupted. But it always went back to their normal friendship. 'Normal' she thought with a sigh, normal was good but she wanted more.

 _Well, now you've got it_ , teased her brain and she blushed again in that empty room, bit her lower lips as a smile found her and refused to go away. Chewing softly on her bottom lip she began again and admonished herself slightly- she had to keep a cool head first.

' _Dear Ron,'_ she wrote again and then, after a minute, added an 'est' to the first word.

Alright, at this rate she would finish this letter by the end of the year, she concluded with a nervous chuckle to herself as her thoughts went back to that messy head of red hair and fair, freckled back she had discovered in the morning. Losing her virginity under the influence of alcohol was not on her agenda, but losing it to Ron was- although she had not really admitted it to anyone, not even herself before today. The thought made her blush again and also caused a pleasant sensation in some far away depth of her body and she wondered miserably, how she was ever going to look and speak casually to him again.

Continuous pecking on the glass brought her back to the present. Making her way quickly to the window, her heart stopped a minute on finding the small owl flapping furiously with an envelope in its talons. Pig was Ron's birthday gift, one he had received from Sirius back in their third year. The bird dropped the letter in her hands the moment it entered the room, and then, began to flutter excitedly near her desk where she kept the Owl-treats.

Once the excited deliverer had busied itself with a treat, definitely instructed to take back a reply, Hermione shakily took the sealed letter and collapsed on her bed taking in his messy scrawl on the cover. In a way this was good, it gave her the scope of replying rather than worrying about being the first to initiate the conversation- but it made her pretty nervous too.

Finally, giving in to her curiosity and madly throbbing heart, she ripped it open and unfolded the parchment.

It was short really- just two lines to be precise. He had asked her if she could meet him today for a couple of hours. If yes, he would meet her at Fortescue's' by four. If not, he would still understand.

It was confusing to be true. The tone of the letter was no different from their regular ones (he had used 'dear' just like always, making her feel a little foolish and a tad bit upset). But he had asked her to meet, and she clung on to that. Penning a quick reply, she tied it to the anxious bird's foot, feeling nerves take over as the owl flew out of the window and into the horizon.

Face to face conversation was a better option, she thought while gathering up her Gryffindor courage... but also quite nerve-wracking a prospect, added her heart softly.

...

She moved through the busy main street in Diagon Alley, heart thundering away in her chest. The flowery red, knee length skirt and white top she wore wasn't something she'd usually wear while meeting friends, and she was glad that her parents were away at work when she had left. It made her a little self-conscious too. She knew this outfit hugged her small frame perfectly. It not only showed way more curves than her school robes, but also made her look and feel feminine- not like the casual denims and tops she was wore mostly. Hermione had also taken the effort of using a special spell that made her curls remain neat and not get tangled and frizzed up during the apparition. But she had drawn the line at going over the top and used only a neutral shade of lip gloss and nothing more. But even then, she felt she was over dressed. Ron had, after all, only asked her to meet; he didn't say it was a date or anything more than a casual meeting. She clasped the tiny bag she carried and concentrated on her breathing as her feet carried her quickly towards the ice-cream parlour.

Ron was sitting at a table for two, watching the customers flicker in and out of the store opposite that displayed an odd assortment of antiques and other random items.

"Hey," she said softly and watched as he turned towards her and then quickly stood up from the chair.

"Hey," he replied back with a conscious smile and scratched the back of his neck.

"You look great," he added even as his ears reddened. She smiled and pulled the chair to sit down. It was hard to miss the slight awkwardness in his behaviour, probably she displayed it too.

She exhaled softly. His proximity was unnerving and kept reminding her of the events the night before.

She looked up to notice he was watching her tenderly but averted his eyes just as their eyes met. When he looked back again, it was masked under his pretend casual attitude, although his nervousness was very obvious.

"I...umm... I was wondering if your parents would allow you to meet me today," he muttered.

"I never told them," she replied.

"Oh..." he responded and his eyes lingered on her face again before he appeared to consciously pull away from his gaze to the menu that lay on the table.

"Erm... What would you like to have?" he asked pushing the menu towards her, and she glanced at it briefly.

"Anything," she responded and pulled her purse but he stopped her, looking a tad bit offended.

"I'll pay," he responded and standing up, went to the counter to place the order.

While he was away, she took the chance to catch her breath. Ron looked disturbed. She didn't really expect him to be all normal, but still, his behaviour was making her worry. Perhaps it was because she he thought she had left in the morning? That surely must be it, she concluded. And, in that case, she would have to clarify what had actually happened.

He walked in a while later carrying two cones, one with pistachios, the flavour she preferred, and another, chocolate. He handed her the cone and sat down, licking his own. For some odd reason, she blushed hard noticing the way his licked the ice-cream and averted her eyes quickly. They enjoyed the cold desert in silence and once done, she decided it was a good time as any to breach the topic. With chocolate in his stomach, Ron would be surely in a better mood.

"Ron, about last night-", she began and noticed him pale significantly.

"Hermione, I... well... I wanted to talk about that too," he stammered guiltily and her heart drummed a little uncomfortably.

"Oh," she responded, "Well, then you go first," she told him, placing her hand on her lap under the table and rubbed them against other, suddenly needing warmth.

He looked away and exhaled softly, "I-... Was everything okay when you got home?" he asked and she relaxed a little.

"Yeah, I mean, I Apparated straight inside my room," she told him and watched as his face lost a little more colour.

"I'm sorry... I should have..."

"It's okay, Ron, I was actually there but you had already left, so I thought I might as well get back too," she explained consciously, her cheeks glowing. She just could not meet his eyes.

She looked up on hearing him smack his forehead looking positively anguished, and the small bubble of joy that had erupted in her vanished.

"Bloody hell, I am a total arse, aren't I?" he muttered and then met her eyes with a totally different expression.

"I'm just so sorry, Hermione," he went on and she could only continue to look at him as her heart broke a little.

"What-?" she managed in a very small voice.

"I should have never gotten so drunk, I should have never..." he reddened significantly and gulped hard. "I don't know what happened to me, blimey... I," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, "-messed it up," he added in a whisper but she heard him anyway.

"It's okay," she told him, just about managing to control the hurt from displaying on her face.

"Are you sure?" he asked looking a little relieved; it pained her all the more.

"Yes, it could have happened to just anyone," she went on stiffly, although, he didn't seem to catch it.

"Yeah, I guess," he appeared to manage a smile, "So you are not mad at me?" he asked.

"Why would I be?" she replied looking away, trying her best from screaming at him.

"Anyway, I have to leave. I've to go somewhere," she said when the urge to get away got unbearable and picked up her bag from the table.

"Oh," he responded and she managed a glance at him, not missing the crestfallen look on his face.

"I had thought we'd spend some time together today," he added softly, and she pushed her chair back and got up, forcing herself not to give in to the silent pleading in his voice, or that look that was forcing her to soften her stance.

"Sorry, Ron but I've to go," she said, "I am going to the British Museum, nothing you'd like," she told him offhandedly.

"I could, I mean, if you don't mind," he asked again, getting up as well, but she wanted to get away from him and fast. She needed to go back home and perhaps stay locked in her room for a while.

She always knew his rejection would hurt; it was the only reason why she had never taken the risk of confessing her feelings. But after what they had shared the previous night, and Ron's plain dismissal of it as nothing more than a drunken-mistake, it hurt way more than she would have ever imagined. But then, she had never thought he would ever hurt her this way, had she? He had brought an end to all the dreams she had ever had about their relationship. It was evident that she had read the signs all wrong.

"No, Ron, I'm meeting some friends," she told him stiffly as she began to walk, unable to watch his face anymore as hurt and anger began to swell inside.

"I didn't know you had friends in the Muggle world," he responded matching her steps and sounding a little hurt himself.

"David," she told him, stopping and looking at him straight in the eye. He flinched and anger flashed in those eyes, but she continued to watch, unfazed.

"David?" he muttered in a soft, dangerous tone.

"Yes, why? Do you mind?" she challenged not quite sure how she wanted him to respond.

"What if I say, I do?" he responded slowly, almost calculatingly.

She looked away, took a few steadying breaths before looking back.

"Bye, Ron," she exhaled tiredly. "See you at King's Cross on first," she said and walked off without another word.

...

Ron reached his room and banged the door shut. Pulling off the navy tee he was wearing, he threw it on the floor and collapsed on the bed. Anger and jealousy were practically rendering him blind.

 _How could she?_

Alright, he had made a mistake, and he had apologised for it too. But just because he had not dropped her home she was giving it back to him by going out with David dressed like that?!

Months and months of small gestures that had given him hope and now she was offended just because he hadn't dropped her home? He could hardly stop the urge to Apparate to the Museum and beat the guy to a pulp. But that bloke wasn't at fault, was he? Surely she enjoyed his company more than his. He closed his eyes, buried his head in his hands and breathed deeply.

He was insane about this girl. It was mad how protective and possessive he felt for her and how much it hurt to see her look at him and tell him on his face that she was going with David and he was not welcome. Wasn't it just the day before when she had laughed about the way he acted with the guy? What had happened over the span of twenty-four hours?

And then it struck.

What if she had seen him with someone, and assumed the worst?

The anger condensed a little, giving rise to a small hope that mingled with guilt.

Should he have confessed? But what would he tell her? He didn't even know who he had spent the night with (if there was a girl at all). The tiny little hope, that it was perhaps her, had shrunk further. She couldn't be the one... she wouldn't go with David if...well...

His brain took the opportunity to frame pictures of Hermione and him on that bed- images pulled out of his secret-most dream, and he shook his head sadly. No, she wouldn't. She was way too rational to act on a whim and get into bed while he was under the influence of alcohol. And she would have told him, wouldn't she?

He groaned and pushed himself back to fall on his back on the bed.

Would he give up so easily? No, he wouldn't. He couldn't; she mattered too much for him to just lose her to some tosser.

The absence of his memories bothered him a lot now since it had messed up his life dismally. He would have to find out what happened, track the girl and at the same time, keep hoping there was nobody. And more than anything else, he would have to keep trying to get back on good terms with her. Even if he had to apologise to Hermione a million times for it, he would do it.

...

Contrary to what she had told Ron, she Apparated out of Leaky Cauldron straight home, inside her room in fact.

She peeled off her skirt and top, throwing them carelessly on the chair, and collapsed on the bed burying her face in the pillow. A steady stream of angry tears escaped from her eyes and disappeared in the pillow.

She allowed the grief-filled streams to fall for a while, and then, wiped them hastily away, sniffing back and steeling her resolve to not cry at the loss of what, clearly, never existed between her and Ron in the first place.

Weeks passed slowly, or perhaps the days felt longer.

She tried hard, but it was difficult to ignore the hurt and the loss of her dreams, worse that Ron could be so heartless to make love to her, and then, disregard it completely. He had written to her, but the more he apologised, the worse he made her feel. She actually contemplated giving him a piece of her mind, but her pride held her back. If he thought of those moments to be a mistake, she wouldn't be the one to show him her weaker side. Even as her anger towards Ron intensified, so did the pain of losing something her heart had yearned for so long, and despite all her struggles, still did.

Finally, it was the day when she was to leave for Hogwarts. For the first time since turning eleven, she felt unsure about leaving for school. As her parents helped her with her luggage onto platform nine and three-quarters, she looked around at the crowd of students gathered on the platform.

"Write to us," her mother told her before her father pulled her into his arms.

"Stay safe, and think of what we discussed," he told her. She gave him a tired smile. He had been telling her to try and apply for a Muggle University after school, something she didn't really want. But she decided she could convince him later.

"Love you, Dad," she told him kissing him on the cheeks before taking control of the trolley. Waving goodbye to her parents, she moved ahead towards the Prefects' compartment. She knew Ernie Mcmillan from Ravenclaw had been chosen as the Headboy, while Ginny replaced her as the Gryffindor prefect along with Ron.

Ron... She wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing him. She had replied to all his letters, though formal, short replies they were.

"Hey," came the voice she had been almost dreading all this while, and the familiar freckled face materialised next to her. She hated the way her stupid heart cried at his sight. Why did she have to be still madly in love with him?

"Hey," she responded and glanced around to avoid looking at him even a minute longer than necessary.

"Where is Ginny? And, Harry? Is he here already?" she inquired quickly as he took the control of her trolley from her soundlessly.

"Yes, they are both in the compartment setting up our trunks. Why are you heading towards the Prefects' compartment now itself? Can't wait to start your Headgirl duties, can you?" he joked and she forced a smile.

"Nothing like that," she responded and followed as he guided her luggage to the train and hauled her trunk and Crookshank's cage up.

She followed him into the compartment to find Harry and Ginny wrapped in an embrace, attached at the lips.

"Oi!" barked Ron, reddening sharply.

"Thanks for not knocking, Ron," remarked Ginny sarcastically, wiped her lips, and took a seat next to a slightly embarrassed Harry. Ron heaved the trunk up with a grunt and dropped down on the opposite seat.

"Hey Hermione," greeted Harry, surely to break the glaring game that erupted between the two siblings and she smiled at her two friends, while still remaining standing.

"I've got to go and fix the schedule with Ernie," she offered before leaving the compartment with a quick glance at the others.

An hour later, she made her way back, having assigned patrolling duties to Ron and Ginny. It was an underhand move, and she felt guilty exploiting her position at the first opportunity, but she really couldn't bear to be with Ron, at least not till she wrapped her head around having him in such close proximity. It was evident that all her preparations had fallen flat the moment she had laid eyes on the tall ginger, and all she could do now was feel miserable for herself.

She settled down on the seat, and Harry, who had been chatting with Neville, looked up as the other boy turned towards the other occupant, Luna, and showed her something in what, she thought, was a Herbology magazine.

"Still upset with Ron?" stated her friend, and she stumbled a little before arranging her expression to neutral.

"Why will I be upset with him?" she asked non-committally and he laughed.

"We've known you for a while, Hermione," he chuckled, and she busied herself by pulling out a book from her bag.

"Give him a break," he insisted and she snorted under her breath, but then he said something that made her look up at him sharply.

"He really doesn't remember anything, he-"

"-wait... What does he not remember?" she asked carefully.

"That night, of course! The night of the Bash?" provided Harry, now appearing a little off footed. "He didn't tell you?" he asked looking horribly embarrassed.

"Ron told you he doesn't remember the night?" she asked again.

"Yeah, he is extremely worked up about it," provide Harry quickly, no wonder in defence of his best mate.

"Of course he is," she replied and looked out of the window.

So, this was how little their closeness mattered to Ron. Fine, he would get exactly what he wished for. From now, she would pretend to have forgotten that night too.

* * *

 _ **A/n: Thank you for reading. I am glad that this has not been done earlier; happy to share it with you all. I hate incomplete stories, and that is why I start a story only when I am confident I can finish it. Hope you liked this chapter. Please leave a review, won't you?**_


	3. Plan Gone All Wrong

**Chapter 3: Plan Gone All Wrong**

It was way past dinner time when Ron slowly clambered over the steps towards the Gryffindor tower. His pockets were filled with tarts, a gift from the house-elves down in the kitchen, and his head was swarming with thoughts that he had not been able to rid off.

It was now almost three weeks since they had got back- three long weeks since the time Hermione had begun to give him a cold shoulder. During the day, in front of everyone else, he pretended not to notice and act normal and friendly. But come the nights, alone, and hidden behind the curtains in his four-poster bed, the doubts came battering in with the force of a hailstorm. He knew she was avoiding him as much as she could, her smiles polite but formal, and he was still not sure of her reasons. Their interactions were few and far in between, even when he cracked jokes that earlier used to make her crack up. The stiff smiles that escaped her tight lips nowadays were not even close to the laughter he loved; these didn't make her eyes shine or cause that pleasant tinkering sound as she placed her hand over her mouth. Those days of their past and the Hermione he knew were lost somewhere.

He watched without actually seeing as his large shoes almost covered the steps while his legs mechanically took him forward. He was tired, frustrated actually. Her coldness towards him was almost palpable in the air, and no matter how much he tried teasing her like before or doing all the same little things she seemed to enjoy earlier, she seemed distant and aloof. He almost didn't want to believe, but at times, he thought she was gladder to see him leave. Not that he found ample time to spend with her anyway. Her Head Girl duties kept her busy, or so she said, and very often, his patrolling schedule strangely coincided with her free hours. He couldn't help wonder if she was intentionally keeping away. The thought hurt and he let out a groan and quickened his steps.

Well, tomorrow was the big day, and this time, he was sure he would not take any chances. What hadn't been done on the day of the Bash would be done tomorrow. He had the plan all worked out. The elves had promised him to bake an Irish coffee flavoured cake for her, the flavour she had casually mentioned she had grown to love. The Harry and the boys would help with the decorations and he had literally pulled out every single Knut he had earned during the summer to get her gift. Well, not just that, he had to pull out the old sock he had been shoving precious Knuts into for years and also take a small advance from the twins.

He thought fondly of the small little crystal pendant that lay hidden in a velvet box deep inside his trunk. Hermione loved wild roses; he seriously hoped and prayed she would like the three tiny, faint pink crystal ones he had managed to pick from Diagon Alley during the last days of the summer holidays. He would have loved to get the silver chain that was on sale too, but he had nothing left in his pocket. It was the most lavish gift he had ever got her, and he was a little freaked out about her reaction, to be honest. But more than that, he hoped she would listen to him and believe when he told her about his memory loss. And, perhaps she would tell him why she was so mad at him. And if all worked well, there was another tiny confession he had for her. His heart thundered and throat got all parched up even at the thought of admitting his feelings, but it was high time that it was done. It seemed that she was slipping away slowly and it scared him crazy. He had to pull her back before she went away, his heart would never be able to survive that loss.

There was a small, unwelcome thought that spoke in the dead of the night- what if she wasn't actually mad at him about that night? What if this was something else altogether- something about not wanting his advances? What if she was subtly indicating him to back off because she preferred another? His breath hitched and he paused even without realising.

Hermione wouldn't do that to him, would she?

The memory of her in that red skirt cropped up in his head and his heart constricted painfully. What if it was that bloke she went out with- David? What if she really liked him? Hadn't Hermione said he was smart and quite a lot like her? What if he was the reason she was keeping away?

"Password?" breathed the Fat Lady and he stared at her, surprised that he had actually reached without even realising.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" she grumbled and he was shaken from his haze.

"Erm...Caput Draconis," he mumbled and stumbled inside the portrait hole into a dark common room. It was empty and the fire in the grate had died down to a few barely alive embers. Not quite sleepy yet, in fact, way too uneasy he collapsed on the couch, stretching his long legs ahead of him.

Closing his eyes shut he tried remembering the night he had forgotten. It was precisely that very day when everything had begun to spiral downwards.

How would he ever find out what the fuck was wrong with him? He could go to Madam Pomfrey perhaps, but whatever had triggered or caused the memory loss had been a onetime event. How would she help when the ailment had happened over a month ago? Folding his arms under his head, and reclining back on the couch he mentally ran through the events of the day. He had been doing it since the Bash just to ensure that he had no more gaps in memory. But never again had they repeated.

Ron couldn't figure out who to ask. He had tried to casually ask around if the drinks were spiked or if anyone else had felt the same but, so far, he had no leads at all. Plus there was that issue he did not want to think of. He was more than glad that none of the Gryffindor girls had come to him or shown any special interest. None apart from Carreen Abbot, Hannah's cousin and Ginny's classmate, but that kid seemed to fancy him for almost a year now. Not that he felt any less uncomfortable about it now than it did a year before, but he had almost learnt to tune it out.

He heaved a sigh again and watched the high, glittering ceiling. By this time tomorrow, either he would have sorted everything with Hermione and become a very happy man, or... Well, he realised he didn't want to ponder much over the scene where his plan failed. He closed his eyes briefly imagining Hermione's face shining with joy at her birthday surprise and a smile found its way to his lips easily.

"Ron?"

He startled and then groaning slightly, opened his eyes and turned around. The smaller, blonde girl was dressed in her pyjamas and sitting on a chair close to the staircase.

"Carreen?" he replied not even trying to mask the annoyance in his voice, wondering at the same time how quickly he could manage to leave the room now that it was no longer empty.

"Why are you still here? It's pretty late," he gruffed and picked himself up from the couch a little unwillingly. He had nothing against the girl, but after whatever had transpired (or not) at Leaky Cauldron, he was not very eager to take a chance.

"I... well... I thought, I didn't see you return after you left," she mumbled shyly and he scrunched his brows in annoyance.

"Go to bed," he retorted sharply and took a few quick paces forward towards the staircase. A sideways glance and he noticed how her face fell but it felt foolish to give her false hopes of any kind, and he was way too messed up himself anyway.

"But, I wanted to talk to you," she called from behind when he had already crossed a couple of steps. He exhaled, paused and turned around.

"Erm... Look, I'm too tired today. Can we please do it tomorrow? No, wait, not tomorrow, perhaps later, okay?" he asked, forcing a smile.

She nodded reluctantly.

"Go to bed, 'night," he told her gently and left without another word.

...

Hermione was still awake. Technically she ought to have slept long ago, at least that had been the plan. But none of her plans worked nowadays, did they, she thought sourly. It had seemed a perfect plan to keep away from Ron as much as possible, throw herself into her studies and Head Girl duties. But his thoughts never seemed to actually leave her. And they trickled into her head during those small moments when her brain was not pondering over her schoolwork or her duties- just as she walked to her classes, the moments when she brushed or did her hair and glanced at her reflection, the times when she sat at the Common Room fireplace, the list was endless. But most of all they found her during the dark nights when she lay in bed twisting and turning, unable to catch on much-needed sleep. She didn't know what was wrong with her; she worked herself up enough to ensure she was dead tired by her bedtime, but despite it, sleep seemed to keep a distance, gathering on her eyes only after she had cried herself into the pillow for hours every night.

She tried to forget, just like he had done, but perhaps she wasn't made that way or maybe it was how a broken heart worked- stirring thoughts that caused the pain to intensify, unwilling to let go of the hurt but wanting a way out at the same time. Certainly, Ron felt none of these. She hated how casual he behaved, joking, pranking and laughing like nothing had ever happened between them. How could he forget so easily? How could he just erase off the memories of those touches, those intense kisses and intimate moments they shared? How could he so easily pretend that they were just friends and nothing more? A short, bitter laugh escaped her at her own stupidity. How could he not? After all, for him, it was a mistake- a drunken one. What had been the culmination of years of pent-up emotions for her was nothing more than a night of drunken madness for him- of course, he wanted to forget, and move on if those calculated looks he gave the other Gryffindor girls were anything to go by. She was disgusted with him, more so because at least a few times when he did notice her catching him in the act, he looked shocked and guilty. That was all the proof she needed to know that he was faking the whole memory-loss thing.

She turned around again and something placed under her pillows poked her skin, reminding her of its presence- the College forms her father had sent. He was adamant about it, and although initially against the whole concept of leaving the wizarding world, now Hermione had begun to wonder if this could be her perfect escape. She shook her head to herself- no, why would she be the one to run away? What wrong had she done- apart from serious misjudgement, of course? Getting up, she took the stack of papers and stuck them under her mattress. No, Ron Weasley, Hermione wouldn't run away; she would stay and watch how downhill this whole mess could go.

...

Hermione trudged along the shifting staircases, practically bone tired after a long day jam-packed with classes and the extra sessions she was taking in six subjects to ace the N. E. W. Ts later in the year. The lone sandwich she had gobbled as she had rushed to the library had disappeared from her system hours ago. For once, she was looking forward to dinner, even if it meant facing Ron at close proximity again, and only because how famished she felt. That her stomach kept churning uneasily wasn't much help either. It seemed as if all the sleep she had been losing for the past five weeks were finally taking a toll on her body. It was getting excruciatingly painful to pull herself off the bed in the mornings. Managing the whole day without taking a lie down wasn't a breeze either.

The staircases moved precisely when she was almost at the top, and she just about managed to grasp the railing, fighting a bout of dizziness. It was sheer luck that she hadn't stumbled down. Hermione let out a groan. It was not fair for her body to give up on her now that she needed the most to be strong and independent. As it is, both the boys were nagging her insane for keeping aloof and not sharing her routine with them. They hated that she barely accompanied them to the classes anymore or told them when she would be free of her other duties. But she had kept her routine random on purpose. She had also made Harry promise that he wouldn't aid Ron by looking into the Maurander's map that he had inherited from his godfather. At least, that way, Ron wouldn't linger around and try accompanying her around. She had, in fact, given him that chance initially, hoping that perhaps he would bring out that night and accept that he was not being honest. But instead of owning up, he had tried to be all normal and friendly; that was when she had decided to stop hoping or giving him another chance for that matter.

Another tiny little thing was that it was her birthday, and no one had wished her so far. She let out a bitter laugh to herself. How delusional had she been all these years?

She reached the portrait hole and muttered the password, wanting nothing more than to crash on the bed for a while before going downstairs for dinner. Stifling a yawn, she trudged inside only to be shocked at the loud explosion.

Stunned, she looked around. The Common Room was almost bursting at the seams with the decorations – a large glowing 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HERMIONE' hanging over the fireplace. Everyone clapped and cheered as Ginny pulled her to the centre of the room where a large cake stood in the middle, alongside a tall grinning redhead.

"Happy birthday, Hermione," he said softly and bent down to kiss her on the cheeks before Harry pulled her into a hug followed by Ginny. A hundred handshakes later she once again stood in front of Ron.

"We really wanted to wish you since morning, but the surprise was this prat's idea," snickered Harry nudging Ron with the elbow as the redhead grinned sheepishly.

"You always rush away to the library before half of us are even awake, I reckoned it'd be better to plan it in the evening," he said scratching his neck uncomfortably, "Please don't be mad," he added in a small voice and her heart seemed to melt despite herself.

"Oh, please! For Merlin sake, cut the cake, Hermione! We have been waiting for an hour already!" groaned Seamus, and everyone laughed.

Ron handed her a knife and gave her another of those smiles that she realised she would never stop loving, and biting her lips she took a look at the enormous cake.

"Irish coffee?" she asked surprised.

"Ron's idea, blame him," provided Ginny but she smiled again.

"I love this flavour," she replied catching his eyes which were looking at her adoringly. He remembered, she thought and her heart seemed to speed up. Could he make everything alright by arranging a surprise birthday party for her? No, perhaps not. But there was something in those blue eyes that seemed to plead and ask forgiveness. Hermione looked away because, as much as she hated to admit it, she would melt if she looked into those any longer.

It was after a while that she sat with a plate full of food the boys had got from the kitchen. She was mortified imagining how much extra work the elves had to go through for her but Harry convinced her that house-elves had volunteered for it themselves. Playing with the tart, she glanced briefly at the redhead who was standing a few steps away with the rest of the boys, a Butterbeer in his hand from which he was taking frequent shots. More often than not, his eyes would dart in her direction, and he would take another hurried sip as if preparing for something.

"Are you still mad at him?"

Hermione turned around, meeting the curious eyes of Ginny who was watching her intently.

"Erm... no," she lied hurriedly. It was hard to tell what she felt and she hated the fact that every time she met those blue orbs her heart seemed to lose a little. She hated the hold he had on her, hated how much she missed him.

"Why were you so angry with him, in the first place?" asked the younger girl once more.

"I am not angry with him, Ginny," she replied but the other girls shook her head disbelievingly.

"So, you mean to say that you two moved from being almost-love-birds to sexually-frustrated-morons because of nothing?"

Hermione groaned at Ginny's choice of words but chose not to comment.

"Cut him some slack, Hermione. I know my brother can be a dumb-head, but he seriously doesn't remember what he did to piss you off so much," she added. Hermione snorted causing Ginny to look up and finally drop her plate on the table.

"I heard him talking to the twins," she provided dead seriously, and Hermione was curious despite her doubts.

"Really?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah... Now, you know how it is with them, right? Ron wouldn't disclose his vulnerability to them if it didn't bother him as much as it is doing. Did you know that he was testing their products during summer?"

"No-" she replied pensively. Why would Ron do such a thing? The twins had a reputation of going over the top with their joke ideas. She always believed that these illegal tests could get nasty.

"Well, he was. Guess they were paying him for it. So, after the Bash, he went about asking them if there was something in any of those potions that could cause him that memory loss."

"What did they say?" she asked unable to figure out what she wanted Ginny's answer to be.

"They denied of course, but if you ask me, George did look a tad bit uneasy after the conversation."

"Who told you all this, Ginny? Ron?" she asked wondering what to make of this new information.

"Oh no! I heard them talking, discreetly of course," she grinned.

Hermione shook her head and looked back at her plate.

Was Ron telling the truth? What if he actually didn't remember? It made her feel all sorts of different things simultaneously. How was she supposed to deal with him if it indeed was the case? Would it be right to tell him? What would she say? Springing on him with 'Ron, we made love on the night you can't remember' sounded terrible and horrifying, not to forget- extremely embarrassing. What if she didn't tell him at all? Could she just go back and try retracing the path they had already covered once? And what if his memories came back one day? She took a deep breath and gulped down a mouthful of pumpkin juice to steady her nerves.

"Bacon, anyone?" cheered Dean suddenly, and picking up the plate from the table, throwing a few in his mouth, passed it around.

"Bacon, birthday girl?" he laughed placing the plate right in front of her and she grinned, picking some on her fork. She bit into it, noticing Ron approaching her at the same time. There was a purpose in his step and her heart gave a leap. She felt angry with him of course, but there was a generous amount of confusion. Why couldn't she make up her mind on how she would act with him?

However, turned out she need not have bothered about it as the very next moment nausea hit her hard and she fumbled to place her plate down. Placing her hands firmly on her mouth, she dashed up the steps. Hermione barely managed to reach the attached bath before throwing up.

...

When Ginny came down after a good ten minutes, it was to find the group of Gryffindor's looking curiously at her.

"Nothing, guys. Seems she starved herself all day and didn't get sleep either. Her body couldn't take in all that junk in one go," she joked pointing at the pile of food and the crowd went back to partying; except for two pairs of eyes, however. She sighed softly and made her way towards them.

"She really is alright," she told the boys.

"Why didn't she come down then?"

Ginny glanced at her brother and wondered if it would be prudent to tell him how sick Hermione looked.

"She really needed to catch up on her sleep, Ron," she placated. "You know how much she is overexerting herself, don't you?" she added.

"Yeah, but..." he mumbled and she exhaled tiredly.

"Do you want me to pull her down to convince you?" she asked feigning annoyance. The truth was that she did feel sorry for him, but Hermione had wanted to stay back and left alone for a while. Normally, she would have bugged her friend, but the older girl really looked bone tired and she couldn't help but have pity on her.

"No," Ron replied grudgingly before walking away, picking a bottle of Butterbeer and flopping down dejectedly on the couch. She turned at her boyfriend to notice him watching her brother sadly.

...

Three nights later

"Harry, I need the map," Ron demanded of his best mate.

"Ron, mate, you know I promised Hermione," replied the other boy helplessly but Ron was not going to buy it. Merlin knew he was tired and pretty pissed off.

"I don't care, what the fuck you promised her," he growled under his breath watching his best mate who sat on his four-poster bed. "It's close to midnight and she isn't back! I have to see where she is, Harry!"

Anger and annoyance were almost rendering him speechless. How could Harry not understand? Twice since her birthday, he had seen Hermione rush to the girls' washroom. She was sick but not telling them. How could he not worry?

"She must be on patrols," Harry provided but Ron could see he was only just about hanging to the hem of the promise he made.

"Look, I just want to know if she is alright, okay? I want to know she is not sick somewhere alone in the castle! Just let me see!" he growled standing up to his full height and towering ominously over Harry's sitting form. Harry's eyes met his in silent understanding and he let out a sigh of relief as the other boy nodded. Getting up, Harry pulled out the map from under his mattress with Ron practically snatching it out of his hands and mumbling the words under in breath as the enchantment began to work.

They both searched over the empty hallways till they located a pair of footsteps marked 'Hermione' and stared at each other in confusion. There was only one place she could be heading towards. Without a further word, Ron dashed out of their dorm, down the steps and out of the portrait hole.

...

Hermione didn't know what was wrong with her, but something was definitely off. And it was a conscious decision to keep it from her friends, including Ginny. She had been missing an awful lot of meals as it is, and the last thing she wanted was a fussy Ron breathing down her neck about it. Hermione was well aware that her friends, specifically one tall ginger, would not take it lying down if she fell sick due to neglect and work pressure. And, Ron was definitely one person she wanted to keep away, at least till sorted up her emotions about him which had got all jumbled up since Ginny's declaration. Pondering over, she had come to a realisation that there was a chance Ron wasn't lying, and if that indeed was the case, her life was way more screwed than before.

She quickened her steps, pulling her cloak closer to herself and concentrated on her breathing to soothe her nerves, but so far, it wasn't proving to be of much help.

Hermione didn't quite fancy disturbing the school nurse at this odd hour, but it was only now that the Hospital Wing was free of any patients, the fourth year girl with flu having been discharged barely a couple of hours ago.

Her panic rose to new heights as she pushed the door open and walked in, aiming towards the chamber right at the end of the long hall, the place which was the Nurse's living quarters along with investigation room for maladies that needed a little more privacy.

She gulped hard and then knocked softly, the door opening briskly.

"I have been waiting for you, Ms Granger," said the elderly witch kindly and ushered her in, closing the door behind her.

"I'm really sorry for disturbing you so late, Madame Pomfrey," she said guiltily but the lady shook her head.

"Nothing is late for us Healers, my dear," she replied, indicating for Hermione to lie down on a smaller bed.

Taking a deep breath Hermione did as asked.

"So, you have been throwing up quite frequently, if I remember from your request slip?" she inquired picking up her wand from the table.

"Y-Yes," she replied, "I haven't been feeling quite well for a while," she added.

"And, have you been eating and taking enough rest?" asked the nurse. "The O. W. L and N. E. W. Ts provide me with a lot of patients every year, though you must be the first one this year," she added tersely.

"Not really, I mean I must have skipped a few meals," she provided uncomfortably wondering if she ought to tell the nurse that somehow, of late she found some food smells rather unappetising. They seem to trigger her retching spells as well. Perhaps it was her nose that had become a little too sensitive.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice the expression on the older witch's face which had grown quite grim.

"I-" she began only to be stopped by the nurse who was moving her wand in more complicated motions.

After around five minutes, Madame Pomfrey gestured her to get up and take a seat opposite to hers. Hermione's heart was breathing rather fast. Well, it was just a bit of fatigue, wasn't it? Why was the witch so sombre then?

"When did you have your last periods, Ms Granger?" the nurse asked grimly and Hermione was almost knocked off.

"W-What?" she stammered.

"Surely you remember when you had your last periods?"

"Y-Yes, yes of course!" she stuttered. _Wasn't it just the other day? Wait... when was it?_ She ran through the days... no, she hadn't had it since she had got to school...so when was it? She let out a small gasp and then furiously counted the days, first mentally and then on her fingers because her calculations couldn't possibly be true.

Tears of confusion and panic hazed her view and she finally managed to look up at the witch who seemed to have concluded her answer already.

"B-Beginning of A-August," she replied gulping a down a whimper.

The nurse let out a sigh.

"Hermione, it's been a little more than a month, around five weeks, I am guessing," she said not too unkindly and she bit her lips as tears pooled in her eyes.

"As a Healer, I can tell you that all your symptoms are related to this pregnancy," Hermione gasped at the words but the older witch continued.

"I have to inform Minerva, I hope you understand."

"Yes," she replied in a quiet voice. The nurse got up and got busy preparing what Hermione thought was a potion. Her feelings were all over the place. She couldn't even think clearly.

She looked questioningly and a little fearfully when a goblet was handed to her.

"It's just a strengthening potion, nothing else," stated Madame Pomfrey a little more kindly this time.

She looked away, nodded, finally coming to the shocking realisation what she had been fearful about. Nothing made much sense so she did what she could -drank deeply.

"What are my options?" she added after a while.

"The school rules don't quite cordon this, you know that. But since you are legally an adult, you have the right to choose to have this baby."

Hermione wished words like 'pregnancy' and 'baby' were not used. They made the fear more pronounced but at the same time, pulled on her heartstrings and made her weak.

"Will I be allowed to finish school if I choose that?" she inquired, wondering why she was asking this question. Wouldn't it be prudent to let go? All it would take would be a potion. Her hand instinctively went to her flat stomach and her heart constricted painfully. She couldn't do that...

"I think that can be answered best by the Head of your House."

She nodded, and after a while looked at the nurse who was still looking at her.

"May I leave?" she asked.

"I'll give you a few potions. It will help with the morning sickness and weakness. Also, till you make a decision, ensure to have proper meals and take adequate rest."

Hermione thanked the kindly lady and was almost going to leave her chair when the nurse spoke again.

"Hermione, if my knowledge of the school rules is correct, you might need to inform who the father of the child is," she added softly and Hermione gasped, wondering if the lady had purposely refrained from mentioning this till the strengthening potion had begun to have an effect.

"I-" she began wondering what to say.

"It seems you conceived during the holidays. By any chance was he a muggle?"

Hermione's first reaction was to decline but the potion had actually had an effect, her tired brain had finally overcome the first onslaught of the shock and at least started to work.

"Does it matter either way?" she asked instead. "Will it affect my chances of being allowed to keep the-" she gulped, "-baby if he is?" she asked.

"No, since you are a witch, the child will be magical irrespective of the father," the nurse replied.

"Then, will I be allowed to keep his identity undisclosed if I deem necessary?"

"I'm afraid, I don't know."

She nodded solemnly. "Thank you for everything, Madame Pomfrey," she muttered softly and got up.

...

After she had left the Hospital Wing and the door to the nurse's chambers had closed back, a tall figure emerged from the shadows.

Ron barely held himself together to avoid running behind her demanding an explanation, demanding her to say that whatever he had heard was false. But perhaps it was the shock that rooted him to the spot instead. That, and the sound of his heart shattering into a thousand pieces, a sound that was still ringing in his ears.

He hadn't heard it all, the words were almost a murmur, but he had heard a few words- 'conceived', 'father', 'muggle' and 'baby'. It wasn't very hard to fill in the gaps.

* * *

 _ **A/n:**_ I was supposed to upload this last week, but it was a festive week for us, all my writing plans got delayed. I hope the long chapter made up for the delay.

Thanks to all of you who added this story to your favourites and alerts and especially those who were kind enough to drop me a review.

A special note of thanks to the **guest reviewer** who pointed out the story I had been searching for so long. Thanks a tonne! yes, that indeed is the one. Sadly it's still incomplete.

I hope you all liked this chapter. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!


	4. A Stinging Wound

**Chapter 4: A Stinging Wound**

Ron was livid.

He stood in the hospital ward for who knew how long before his tired legs carried him away. The shock of what he had heard was like a physical blow that shattered his world as he knew it. The words seem to ricochet inside his head, his brain still struggling to completely grasp the true meaning of it all.

For the second time within a week, he found himself standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady but not quite aware of how or when he reached it. She was dozing poised in an odd angle, snoring softly. He was almost about to call her out, keen to shut himself inside his four-poster bed, but something stopped him.

Did he really want to be in such close vicinity of _her_?

No.

Taking a deep breath, and a lot more awake than he would have ever liked to be at this late hour, Ron turned around on the spot and walked away. Only when he was far enough from the Gryffindor tower did he paused to think. Exhaustion and unease were getting overbearing and he barely pulled himself till the lonely Astronomy Tower. Once he was at the top, he collapsed down on the steps and buried his head in his hands.

Alone in the dark, windy tower, the truth seemed to slowly seep in, burning his heart and soul on its way. He wanted to cry, to scream, to curl up in his room and never see her again.

How could Hermione do this to him? How could she...

He couldn't frame the thought as white-hot rage filled his veins imagining that bloody speckled Canadian with her.

He roughly wiped off the tear that had escaped and looked at the clear night sky.

Lies, lies was all that she had given him. Everything was now as clear as day. He, Ron Weasley, was a fool. He had never seen what was right in front of him. She had been giving him a cold shoulder not for what he had done, but for what _she_ had been doing behind his back- shagging that bloody bastard.

Anger and fury were almost blinding him. How could she? What was the need to pretend to be aloof and angry when all she wanted was for Ron to back up? She should have had the guts to tell him on his face that he was wasting his time, tell him that all that had been leading up to their seven-year-long friendship was a sham or his imagination. There was nothing between them, nothing from her side at least.

Or perhaps she had got tired of waiting for him to man up? But then how hard would it have been for her to tell him that? Why those smiles? Those blushes? Why share all those moments with him that gave his heart hope- right until the day of the Bash?

He gulped down a throbbing ache and wiped off a few more tears. He never thought Hermione would hurt him this way. And he never knew that the pain of rejection and betrayal would be so bloody intense. All this while, he had been working his arse off to find the cause of his memory loss. He had been worried sick wondering if he had gone with a different girl, fearful of how hurt she would be to know if such a thing happened. He had been feeling miserable although his head wasn't perhaps even working at the time. For fuck sake, he had been trying all he could to make it up to her even without knowing what his fault actually was!

And what had she done?

She had gone ahead and shagged David; the guy she had probably met only during the holidays for she had never mentioned him before.

Why had he even bothered about the night of the Bash? How did it even matter if he had gone with some random girl? In fact, he hoped that he had shagged someone too. She wouldn't care anyway, so why should he?

His thoughts went back to the day he had met that blasted moron. Wasn't it too evident how taken he was with her? Ron was almost sure that the bloke had wooed Hermione with fancy words about ancient civilisation or something.

He snorted.

Everything was making sense now. Her parents didn't like him anyway, but they sure liked this student of theirs' who was even allowed into her room. And she liked him too. It was him, Ronald Bilius Weasley, who was the dumb jackass here. He had been foolish enough to think Hermione fancied him back as well. He was dumb enough to think that she could ever be in love with him, an arse in fact to imagine that their years of friendship gave him leverage.

But the truth was that she hadn't even bothered to be honest with him.

He wasn't even close enough to her to warrant the facts, no matter how harsh. Perhaps she was not sure of his reaction? Not confident in his ability to handle rejection? And honestly, would it make it any better if he had got to know it from her? Marginally, perhaps. At least he wouldn't have felt like a dick. At least he wouldn't have embarrassed himself in front of her so often. He wasn't sure about his ability to be all mature about it, but he would have tried, for the sake of their friendship if nothing else.

But certainly, she didn't think very highly of him.

Perhaps that was the reason why she had never even written to them about David. And he knew for a first hand that she did like him. Why would she not? After all, he was all brilliant and bookish like her. And, by the look of it, she liked him enough... enough to get pregnant with his child.

He allowed the tears to fall this time and cradled his head in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably in the silence of the night.

...

Hermione went through her daily night time routine almost mechanically.

Looking into the small mirror in their dorm's attached washroom, she took careful note of her reflection. Her eyes looked tired, and her face was paler than before, but other than that nothing was different. Next, she looked down at her simple pyjama clad self. Nothing in her body showed the massive change that had struck her life. There was no indication whatsoever that a life was growing inside her.

She pushed away that thought and putting back her toothbrush, left the room towards her bed. Once inside the curtains, she allowed Madame Pomfrey's words to wash over her and involuntarily pressed her hand over her abdomen. A single tear rolled down and disappeared into the pillow.

She took a few deep breaths, allowing herself to think and feel that she was indeed carrying a life inside her. A life she had created- with Ron.

His name opened the floodgates and tears pooled and overflowed quickly.

On her way back, she had finally allowed herself to go over the memories she had forcefully shut away in some corner of her brain. She needed to remember if she had truly cast that contraceptive charm on herself.

A painful memory surfaced where she and Ron were laughing in each other's arms. She had finally moved away, a little tipsy though, and flicked the wand in a careful motion. It had been her first attempt, after practice that is. And she thought she had done it right, perhaps she had been too intoxicated to mutter the incantation coherently or maybe her hand had swayed during the wand motion. And any second attempt had been cut off by Ron who had grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her to himself as his determined lips had captured hers. Her wand had tumbled out of her hands, as she had fumbled to hold on to him...

The memories were excruciatingly bittersweet. It had been a moment of unbounded love that had created the life inside her, at least that is what her memories told her. It had felt so right, so perfect. The way they had blended in together had really made her feel as if they had been made for each other. But that was not the truth, or was it? She could not decide what to make of Ron's behaviour anymore. There was no strength left in her to wonder if he was being honest or lying blandly.

She tried taking in a deep breath but the lump in her throat refused to go away making the task very difficult. How was she supposed to deal with everything life had thrown her way? Panic gripped her so hard that she clutched on to her pillow for there was no one else she could hold on to.

Even without the mess that her life was at the emotional front, she had her N. E. W. Ts this year. It was crucial that she did well; her entire future depended on it. Her parents' passive aggressive stance about her continuing in the Wizarding world was something she had pushed on the back-burner for very long, but as her school days were coming to a close, the pressure to finally deal with it was looming large. They would not take kindly to her stance of moving into the Wizarding community. Hermione had always thought that her being able to enrol in the best Wizarding Law School would sway her parents her way. After all, they wanted her to achieve the best in academics. And she had also thought (hoped rather) that, by then, Ron and she would have moved into some sort of a commitment giving her a solid ground in the wizarding world where she had no family. But now, everything was messed up. She placed her hand on her belly once more. How would she even manage to give her papers at the end of the year? If her calculations were correct, she was due in May. The panic in her system rose up a few notches and she struggled to steady her breathing. How on earth would she manage giving birth and bring up a child all alone? Even if she managed to ace her exams and get the scholarship she was looking at, was it even possible to go through the rigorous course as a single mother? And where would she find the funds to support herself and the baby? She would really need a job, part-time at least and an accommodation and some help to care for the child when she wouldn't be around. There was no way she expected her parents to help. In fact, she had no clue how she would even tell them she was pregnant at eighteen.

And then there was Ron. It didn't matter anymore whether he was lying or not. In case he was faking it, there was no way he would share the responsibility of a child when he didn't even acknowledge sleeping with her. It would be an embarrassment to tell him and then get shunned away. No, her self-respect would never be able to take that.

And what if he was actually telling the truth? She didn't even know how to deal with that. It would be too messed up. But in that case, would she do better by telling him? Ginny's words came back to her making her feeling worried but a little better all the same. If he did forget due to a backfiring potion or something, underneath it all, he would still be the Ron she loved, the Ron who would not shy away from a responsibility. Perhaps, she needed to give him a chance to speak? Hear him out? And then, depending on his answers, she could take a call about telling him?

A tiny part of her brain stirred uncomfortably. Wouldn't it be easy and a lot less messy to let go? All it would take was a potion and her body would wash away all the remaining traces of that night, the physical ones at least. Ron could be lying, or perhaps telling the truth, but in any case, people would begin to ask questions. And things like these could get nasty; the Wizarding world was still not very open about children born out of wedlock. And here, she might need to keep the identity of her child's father a secret forever. Would that be fair for the child to grow up in such an unhealthy environment?

The 'baby' was technically nothing more than a lump of cells now; it would not feel a thing. Would it not be easy to ... She gulped hard. But _she_ would know, she would feel and remember. Was she ready to let go of her first child because the situations were not exactly favourable? Perhaps it would be the practical and more rational approach, but for once in her life, Hermione wanted to follow her heart instead of her head. It was an insane idea, but she couldn't possibly destroy something had created with her Ron, no matter how unplanned, or wrongly timed. She always believed that going ahead that night was not a 'mistake' as he had put it, not for her. So, it was only right that she took the responsibility of what came as a result of that night- with her head held high.

She felt marginally better having taken a decision and an enormous amount of panic. But she was a Gryffindor. No one had the right to tell her what she did with her life. If she chose to have a baby, she would. And she would work out the details. She had eight more months to plan it all out. With a deep breath, she made a resolve to have a talk with Ron. She would give him a fair chance. And if he didn't want it, she would ensure his name would never be tied to her baby. Her heart thumped at the bold decisions; they were not all practical. But a decision was a decision.

She closed her eyes but sleep was still miles away. There would be a thousand questions to answer; questions that would tear down her personal space. Wouldn't it be easier to leave? Go away and settle somewhere where no one knew her? A muggle place perhaps? She exhaled softly. She would have to wait till school got over, and by then, the baby would have arrived. Hermione had no knowledge how to care for children and a strange surrounding would only compound her problems. The startup would still be difficult. And to add to all the same problems, she wouldn't have magic to help her or money for that matter. Her little saving from the security fund wouldn't last her very long. And it would be way more difficult to get a decent paying job. No, the wizarding community was her best hope. Perhaps, she could convince her Head of House to put in a word for her somewhere? It was a faraway thought; she didn't even know how Professor McGonagall would react on the news in the first place.

She rubbed her hand gently on her flat stomach. No matter what, she promised herself that she would keep this little one safe. It might be a mistake for Ron, but for her, it was still a part of the only man she ever loved.

Her tired eyes let out a few more tears before she dozed off.

...

For the next couple of weeks, she tried her level best to get Ron to herself. But for reasons unknown, he was almost invisible. She barely saw him and neither Harry nor Ginny was much help. Hermione had so far ducked away from the questions about her ill health by saying that it was nothing but examination panic, but she knew, a few months down the line, everyone would get to know.

The meeting with McGonagall had gone worse than she expected. The elderly witch made it plan in no uncertain terms that she was very disappointed in Hermione's lack of judgement. And she wasn't very pleased either when Hermione refused to tell the name of the father of the child. However, she did tell Hermione that she would do her best to ensure that a concession was made regarding Hermione's ability to continue school; her good academic and behavioural record did earn her a bit of grace. But, the governors of the school would have to be notified, she informed. Hermione had only been able to nod, a steady stream of tears cascading down her cheeks. It was mortifying and it was just the beginning. She was more than a little surprised to find a gentle hand on her shoulder and a sympathetic look on her teacher's face.

"I hope you understand that my concerns are about your well-being, Hermione," she had said. "I am upset only about the timing, my dear. You have a very tough battle ahead of you, although it shouldn't have been only yours to bear. That is why I have been insisting on knowing the name of ... well, the father of the child," she finished solemnly.

"Are you absolutely sure about keeping the child?" she had asked, and Hermione had looked up, tearful but determined.

"Yes,"

McGonagall had nodded tiredly but with a faint hint of a sad smile. "Alright, I'll do the best I can, but you have to take care of your health. Poppy will be there to for anything you need."

Hermione had tried to thank, say that she was extremely grateful but all she had managed was another breakdown. She had left after a considerable time during which McGonagall had given her a huge chunk of chocolate and some personally baked biscuits.

Back in the present, she looked morosely at her dinner plate. All she had managed to keep in without feeling terribly queasy was her pudding. Ron had literally gobbled down his meal and left without even looking at her. It wasn't hard to figure out that he cared little. She had begun to question her plans of giving him a chance to explain. What did it matter? McGonagall had informed her this morning that Dumbledore had put in a strong case for her. It was a relief but with so many issues plaguing her life, it brought little relief.

"Are you done?" she asked Ginny and Harry who were sitting across each other with Ginny next to her.

"We are, but you barely had anything," pointed Harry at her plate.

"I'm full," she told him, getting busy with putting a thick Transfiguration book inside her sling bag.

"So, let's go then," suggested Ginny and the three of them got up.

"Why did Ron dash away?" she inquired without looking at either of them and noticed them sharing a look.

"Erm, he is busy practising for the upcoming match with Slytherin," provided Harry, trying his best to sound casual.

"Oh," she replied.

"Yeah, he needs way more practice than the rest of us," quipped in Ginny, and Hermione did nothing to point out that Ron had gone rather good at his game since the last year. They walked up to the castle making small talk and once they reached the Gryffindor Tower, Harry pushed open the portrait door for them.

She entered behind Ginny, and almost bumped into the girl who seemed to have come to an abrupt stop.

"Ginny, wha-" she began but the rest of the words died in her throat.

Ron was right there, kissing Careen. Her world seemed to spin and then come to a stop. To make it all worse, he opened his eyes, located her and then, instead of leaving the girl, pulled her in closer, all the while keeping his eyes on Hermione. There was anger in those blue orbs and some sort of a challenge. The pain of his open betrayal hurt her to the core. She wanted to run away but the pain rooted her on spot. It looked like a horrible nightmare.

"RON!" screamed Ginny, and Hermione was shaken awake. Without another word, she left as quickly as she could.

...

His heart was still thudding madly with all the pent-up anger. His brain was telling him to let the girl go; her arms around him felt constricting but Hermione came in and he couldn't help giving her back in kind. He wanted to see that hurt in her eyes as she watched him snogging Careen, but wasn't it just a feeble margin of what she had done? So, he pulled the younger girl closer, but silently willed Hermione to leave so that he could push Careen away. He didn't fancy kissing her, but she had made the first move and he had reciprocated only out of sheer frustration.

"RON!" yelled his sister and he finally pushed her away holding her by the shoulder.

He glanced at Careen expressionlessly. She looked at him flushing hard and breathing heavy.

"I believe you wanted to tell me something?" in asked ignoring his sister who seemed to be having a row with Harry, or something.

She blushed harder, paused for a minute before swallowing hard, and he made an impatient sound at the back of his throat.

"I-I only wanted to tell you that... I-I really fancy you a lot," she stuttered.

He exhaled. "Fine, now go," he replied. _What an arse, Ron!_ Barked his conscious, he ignored it.

"I-"

"Look, you snogged me, I snogged you back. End of story. Don't read more into this," he replied. He really was a dick, but he couldn't care less.

Her face fell and she nodded before turning around and walking away. He noticed his best mate had given up trying to hold back Ginny who approached him fast, not even paying attention to the girl. He turned away and slumped down on the couch.

"RON, YOU ARSE!" she shrieked but he didn't even bother to look up.

"WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT?" she bellowed again.

"I am not answerable to you, Gin!" he replied, ice dripping from his voice.

"BUT YOU ARE ANSWERABLE TO HERMIONE!" she spat back.

"Really?!" he asked sarcastically. "I'll tell you something, I am not answerable to anyone," he told her coldly and stormed out of the portrait hole.

...

Back in her dorm, Careen quickly entered her bed and pulled the curtains shut. She couldn't believe what just happened. It was a mad chance she had taken after noticing that Ron wasn't following Hermione anymore. She had not really expected him to kiss her back! But it made her heart soar. After all, she had been obsessing over him for a year now. But everyone knew he was head over heels for Hermione. There was no chance there.

Initially, all she had planned was to talk to him. Her ears were always trained when anyone mentioned him and it had been easy to pick up that he had apparently forgotten about the night of the Bash. And for whatever reasons, things between him and Hermione weren't all good.

But she knew.

And that is what she had planned on telling him.

She had seen them kissing that night before they disappeared into a room. Her original intentions were honest. Hermione didn't seem to buy that he had forgotten and he was clueless; it could be something else, but that was her best guess. She only wanted to tell Ron what she had seen; just get into his good books. But now, that seemed stupid. The two of them had moved apart, and it would be moronic for her to tell Ron the truth now. She ran her finger over her lips and smiled to herself. Hermione didn't seem to want him anymore and he was angry with her for some reason.

Good. It worked best for her.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ That's two back to back updates. The flow of this story came easily, and I thought it better to put it down and upload. Next update will be for **In Search of Hermione**. Thanks to each one of you for reading, and reviewing of course. I know the chapters are hard, but the next chapter will be something 'big' (in a good way) I promise.

I am debating if to upgrade the rating to M as one of you suggested. Obviously, that will affect the Romione moments you will get. So please let me know your views.

Thanks for reading!


	5. A Slice of Truth

**Chapter 5: A Slice of Truth**

"You're sure you don't want us to come along?" asked Ginny. Hermione noticed the redhead glancing once at Harry who was also watching her carefully. Their understanding glances amplified her guilt for she knew the two were trying their best to stand by her even without her having confided in them completely. They didn't know how grateful she was for their support.

"I'm sure, Ginny. You both barely get time for each other. Go ahead," she managed with a smile that, she was sure, didn't reach her eyes.

"But-" interjected Harry, and she simply shook her head and picked up her sling bag from the table, placing a few coins next to her empty butterbeer mug.

"Go ahead, Harry. Ginny has a huge list of suitors and they are only waiting for her to dump you," she joked ruffling his already messed up hair in a sisterly manner, and waving a quick goodbye to both, walked of Madam Rosemerta's before they could protest further.

Once out of their sight, the smile soon disappeared from her face. She inhaled with difficulty and pulled the bag close to her chest. Ron hadn't come along, in fact, he had told Harry that he wouldn't be visiting Hogsmeade at all; she wasn't surprised. Somewhere deep in her heart, it ached to think why he must have stayed back, and with whom.

He avoided her like plague, and after that one night, she was grateful for it. She didn't want to know if he was spending the day with Careen. And no matter how hard she convinced herself that she didn't care, the harsh truth was that she did. It hurt, terribly so. Thankfully, she hadn't seen them together again at least and hoped she wouldn't have to as long as they were together, though that was perhaps hoping a little too much. It was quite possible for her to have missed their not too subtle public displays because she practically lived in the library these days. And just to save her heart of further damage, Hermione had ensured that any dealings she needed to have with Ron, even his prefect duties, were passed on through Ginny or Ernie.

Hermione trudged her way through the ankle-deep snow, the long and oversized cloak and jumpers beneath it hiding her slightly visible baby bump. She passed through cheerful groups of students and made her way towards the village post office. The package with the list of pregnancy related books she had ordered from Flourish and Blotts was due to arrive anytime soon. It had made more sense to provide them with a post box number instead of having it delivered to her at the Great Hall in front of everyone.

Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to hide her pregnancy forever, and no matter how much she convinced herself otherwise, she dreaded the day it would come out. She wasn't worried about the rest of the school as much as she was concerned about her friends' reactions. Deep in her heart, she both hated and looked forward to Ron getting to know.

How would he react?

Perhaps, on some insane, irrational level, she was still holding on to the hope that he would stand by her when he finally got to know. But the more logical part of her was prepared for the ruthless reality. Even in the worst case scenario, she'd rather prefer him to deny it was his rather than accept it, only to disagree with her decision to keep the baby. Not that it would matter even if he thought that way, but she hoped it wouldn't get so ugly. From where she stood in life, wishing for something good seemed utterly foolish, and yet, it was hard to stop hoping; after all, Ron was the only guy she had ever loved. She didn't hope to find someone else; after getting betrayed by her best friend, she really didn't have the strength to trust someone else. She hated her pathetic self for craving so much for him, even after everything, but her dumb heart never seemed to let go.

Hermione made her way through the chilly wind, passing through the twins' latest expansion, the Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes' Hogsmead outlet. The building stood out amidst the white snow like a decked up Christmas tree. And it was packed. Going by the pamphlets that had made their way mysteriously inside the school, the twins were currently in the house and the store was on sale. If the displays were anything to go by, numerous of these items would soon make to their 'to-be-confiscated' list.

She just about figured a dark haired wizard and his stunning redhead girlfriend enter through the 'employee only' entrance before turning away, and making her way to the dilapidated building that stood ahead of her.

...

"I really hope none of those topple down on us," he whispered while the two of them squeezed between the piles of boxes stacked in the dark corner of the room that served as the store.

Ginny, who was still busy finding a comfortable position in their hiding place, clamped her hand over his mouth making Harry think of all the other naughty things they could be doing at the moment. However, that bit of thought was soon overshadowed by curiosity as the voices came closer, rising higher in both pitch and volume. He looked at Ginny who shrugged her shoulders a little and scrunched her brows in concentration.

To be honest, Harry wasn't even sure why they were hiding like this when they could easily walk up to the three Weasley men. Ginny had taken it up as her moral duty to follow her youngest brother to find out what he was hiding. After all, Ron had made it clear only hours before that he wasn't interested in visiting Hogsmeade at all. Once they had seen him cross the back alleys behind the shops. Putting on hold the snogging session that was getting steadily heated, she had pulled Harry along, to follow the tall ginger from a safe distance. They had been even more surprised to see Ron entering through the shop's back door stealthily. Naturally, and the two of them had sneaked into her brothers' store behind an oblivious Ron.

Ginny had taken it up as her moral duty to follow her youngest brother to find out what he was hiding. After all, Ron had made it clear only hours before that he wasn't interested in visiting Hogsmeade at all. Once they had seen him cross the back alleys behind the shops, putting on hold the snogging session that was getting steadily heated, she had pulled Harry along to follow the tall ginger from a safe distance. They had been even more surprised to see Ron entering through the shop's back door stealthily. Naturally, the two of them had sneaked in too.

Harry, on a personal level, was quite ashamed of himself. In a way, he was betraying his best mate. But, as Ginny had reminded him in hushed undertones, Hermione was his best friend too, and they were only doing this to sort the tension between the two idiots. He didn't know how Ron's secret meeting was connected to the issues the two had, but Ginny seemed to be way too convinced, and eventually he had given in.

The men were just beyond a couple of rows of packed boxes that reached up to the ceiling. It sounded like they were having an argument, and after a nonverbal nod of agreement, the two of them crawled in closer, their new position sure helping in their eavesdropping as the words became clearer.

"I asked you before and you both denied!" Ron's words were full of ill-concealed anger and a tone Harry had never heard him use against his brothers, at least not on their face.

"We didn't know!"

Harry glanced confused at Ginny who looked back at him, equally baffled. Never before had he heard Fred (or was it George?) sound so ashamed. Ron, however, huffed indignantly.

"No, Ron, I swear," said one of the twins and was quickly interrupted by the other.

"-it was a side effect. Something we never predicted! It looks like alcohol was the culprit here,"

"And you both find it out now? _After four fucking months?!_ "

"Well, we did a bit of research, you know after you said you couldn't remember the night. But all our tests failed-"

"-especially because we didn't know which of the six products you tested caused it,"

"And then, Marvin the other tester complained the same too-"

"- we've identified the potion but-"

" _But what?_ " interrupted Ron, "Have you got an antidote or something?"

The pause in the reply gave Harry the answer he was dreading; apparently, Ron must have seen it too. He let out a bitter chuckle.

"You haven't, have you?"

"We are working on it-"

"-seriously, Ronnie, this is our priority now,"

"Do you think I'll ever get my memory back?" asked Ron after a pause, his words quiet and hopeless.

"Yeah, we-we're sure! Aren't we, Freddie?" asked George.

"Of course! Just- Just don't let Mum know, will you? Or any of the teachers for that matter-"

"-you see, Ronnie, this kind of error can seriously impact our trade license,"

Harry was itching to go out and stand next to his best mate. He looked around to find Ginny looking at the boxes, her features stoic.

"Meanwhile, you can pick up anything you want from the store for free!" cheered Fred on the other side of the cartons.

"Yeah, sure! Just go ahead, little brother," George joined in but Ron let out a hollow laugh.

"You don't need to bribe me. I think I have had enough of your products, thanks. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion but exhausted. Harry was sure he wouldn't have heard the rest of the words if he wasn't listening so hard.

" It doesn't matter anymore," his best mate added softly before walking out the very way he had arrived.

..

Ron would have barely made out of the shop and onto the street, or so Harry hoped, as Ginny only waited for the door to shut before stomping out of their hiding point, and he followed her as quickly as he possibly could without causing the oddly assembled crates to crash upon them.

"HOW COULD YOU!" she screeched pulling Fred by his jumper and causing both the men to take a step back at their sudden appearances.

"Ginny?! Harry!" they gasped in unison.

" _Do you have any clue how much you messed things up between Ron and Hermione?!_ " she yelled in a deathly cold whisper, and Harry was amazed to see her older siblings look positively uncomfortable. It sure didn't help matters that Ginny was looking very much like her mum did during one of her rages.

"It was an accident!" exclaimed George.

" _Seriously?_ " she questioned him back.

"Yes, Gin. It was," provided Fred more forcefully. She didn't reply but only took to staring at them with her arms folded at her chest.

"I'm guessing you guys have heard it all," exhaled George, slumping down on one of the crates and running his hand through his hair.

"It's a really risky thing to have happened, and just to be on the safe side, we've put all those products we tested on him on hold," provided Fred sincerely.

"But what about Ron?" Harry asked finally. "He wasn't lying as Hermione suspects. He really has no memory of that night. Can't you guys do _something_?" he pleaded.

"And, I'm not even sure but possibly something happened that night between them. _Have you seen Hermione?_ She's miserable!" pointed Ginny not so calmly.

"Perhaps not, Gin. She _was_ annoyed with him, but things went downhill after her birthday, you remember?" Harry contradicted.

"But she _was_ annoyed with him about that night, Harry!" she insisted, frowning at him this time as if it was all his fault.

"She never said so explicitly, did she?" he argued back.

"But-"

"Come on! Hold on, you two!" interrupted Fred as a knock sounded on the door that led inside the shop. He opened it a bit and answered whoever was on the other end before turning back.

"George, we are needed in front of the house," he said closing it, and George lifted himself up from the crate.

"Okay, you two, we've to go," he declared, and after a brief moment of hesitation looked at them again.

"We'll sort this out,"

"Can't we take him to St Mungo's?" asked Harry. "Look, we can just pretend we don't know the cause," he added quickly at their expressions.

" _And how do we explain why he postponed the visit for four solid months?_ " grumbled Ginny.

"They'll need something to work with, Harry. And unless Ron tells them he tried some of our unregistered products, they won't be able to solve anything. The effects are long washed off from his system. And if he tells them, it will be... nasty... and worst of all... Mum will get to know..."

"...and the Ministry will too. We are not allowed to endanger anyone and this is almost like Obliviating a defenceless person. It'll screw our trade permits," interjected Fred guiltily.

"So, it's up to you two," concluded Harry. He didn't wish to linger on the thought that Ron was the unlucky victim here, no matter how accidental the situation. So he looked at the two identical faces in front of him. These two were brilliant to come up with all the products they had. Surely they could fix this?

He waved goodbye to the twins while Ginny simply turned away, and as they walked out, the only thought Harry had on his mind was how much of rotten luck Ron had to have the potion backfiring on the only very night when he was at the Bash. Had it been one of the other days, all he would have forgotten was the night that he would have spent sleeping anyway.

...

Ginny stifled a yawn and flipped idly through the pages of her copy of Advance Potion Making and glanced for the umpteenth time towards the portrait hole. The clock chimed ten, and taking in the deserted Common Room, she shut the book finally. It was about time Hermione got back.

Normally, she would not have bothered about her brother's love life, but annoyingly, the prat had chosen to fall in love with the one girl Ginny loved like a sister. And the two were miserable. She was still furious with Ron for kissing Careen in front of Hermione, but the longer she watched Ron, the more it seemed as if her brother had been more interested in hurting Hermione than in the act of kissing the girl. For one, she never saw the two together. She could have confronted Careen but her arse of a brother had kissed her back, hadn't he? How could she blame the girl alone?

The sound of the portrait hole opening was enough to shake her up from the drowsiness and she promptly sat up straight.

As expected, Hermione walked in carrying an armful of books and her sling bag that seemed to be overflowing with scrolls. Ginny made her way quickly to the elder girl, helping her dump the heavy volumes on the table.

"Thanks, Ginny. But why are you still awake?" inquired Hermione, slopping down tiredly on the couch. Ginny thought for a brief moment about her discussion with Harry and decided to get straight to the point, words tumbling out of her mouth easily.

"Ron is not lying, Hermione. He seriously doesn't remember the night of the Bash."

Hermione looked shocked and confused for a moment before her appearance went back to normal, uninterested. She prodded the fire and settled back before replying.

"You've already told me of your suspicion, Ginny," she said. "And, why should anything about him matter to me?" she added in a cold,overly emotionless voice.

"It is _not_ my suspicion! I _know_ , Hermione!" she emphasised before dropping down on the couch next to her friend. Over the next ten minutes, she proceeded to tell Hermione all that she and Harry had heard that afternoon. Hermione's expression changed from indifference to shock, and just when Ginny thought she saw her eyes pooling with tears, the older girl looked away.

Ginny allowed her words to sink in, and eventually it was Hermione who broke the silence.

"So, Fred and George don't know if they will be able to get his memories back?" Hermione asked very softly.

"They are trying," she replied with more conviction than she felt, and watched Hermione watch the flames, an indistinguishable expression marrying her pretty features.

"Hermione, Ron doesn't remember. But _you_ do. If you are angry with him, tell him the reason. Sort out whatever misunderstandings you have. It's making both of you miserable, and you know it," she urged placing her hands on her friend's shoulder.

Hermione spent few long minutes in silence while Ginny grew impatient and frustrated, almost wishing she was a Legilimens.

"I'll sort it out," she said finally in a quiet voice, and Ginny exhaled.

"Yeah! You do that, okay?" she replied, relieved.

...

"Stupid. Fucking. Git," mumbled Ron in an undertone while scribbling furiously on the two feet long parchment in front of him.

"We shouldn't have left this till the last minute, probably," muttered Harry from the sidelines while turning a few pages of the huge volume in front of them, squinting harder and scribbling a few lines himself.

"Whatever," he grumbled, looking at his watch and resumed copying from the second book that lay on the table. Fucking miserable luck they had. The bumbling idiot Horace Slughorn had to go ahead and retire just before their N.E.W.T levels and leave them with none other than a slimy git as replacement. Ron hated Severus Snape, a sentiment that for some strange reason Harry's father and godfather shared with him. The new Potions master was a well known Potioneer, although rumours had it that during his young age he had fallen into evil company before coming back to his senses and getting back to brewing Potions for the Ministry. But the ill-feelings Potter Senior had for their new teacher was equally reciprocated by the other side and had not simmered with time. Unfortunately, the grown up bat sought release of his frustration by purposely picking on Harry, Hermione and him. Well, Snape wasn't very kind to any of the houses apart from his own, but his favourite target seemed to be the Gryffindors.

"I hate Potions," he announced, quite possibly the hundredth time since morning. "I can't believe we've wasted two full free periods working on this assignment," he added, finally scribbling on the last line and throwing his quill carelessly on the table. His arms ached and he flexed his fingers to get them working again.

Harry spent a few more minutes finishing his, and when he was finally done, he rolled up his parchment and leaned back, jerking his ink-stained right arm to get some blood circulation back.

"I hope your dad and Sirius gave him a tough time when they were in school with him," Ron announced, dumping the rolled up scroll in his bag and looking around for the previously thrown away quill.

"They did, mate. Mum and Remus wouldn't let them tell me, but from what I heard from Sirius, they gave him a horrid time- all through the seven years at Hogwarts. And he is paying us back now," Harry replied, glancing at his watch.

"Bloody git," Ron muttered again.

Of late, he often wondered which higher power he had offended for getting such a miserable year. First, everything he hoped to have with Hermione backfired so terribly, and now, he was forced to deal with Snape and Careen... His heart twisted guiltily in his chest. He didn't know whether he was supposed to believe her; still hoping with all his might that she had lied when she told him the other day that _she_ was the girl who had gone down with him on the night of the Bash. But how could she be lying? For one, she knew which room they went to, and Hermione's reaction post that day only proved that his worst nightmares were true- perhaps she had seen them together. Ron didn't want to know. The only saving grace was, according to Careen, they had done nothing more than snog and mess around a bit, although he despised himself for it. Drugged or not, he wasn't supposed to act that way. The worst part was that he had no memories to contradict her. It made him sick to the stomach because it was a confirmation that he was not with Hermione. In a way, he had been the first to mess things up between them.

He was almost certain that _this_ was the reason why Hermione was so angry with him. Perhaps that also caused her to get close enough to David. But close enough to get pregnant with his baby? He chuckled bitterly to himself. It was ironic how he had all the answers he was searching for since August, but given the nature of them, he'd rather be ignorant.

"Ginny and I know about the potions backfiring, Ron," Harry said softly and he jerked his head up to look at his best mate who was looking sympathetic, and perhaps a tad bit guilty as well.

He shrugged. What difference did it make anyway?

"Ginny told Hermione too," Harry added and he scowled.

"Why?" he gruffed.

" _Why?_ Because she needs to know, Ron!"

"She doesn't need to know anything," he replied rudely, and glancing at his watch, picked up his bag from the ground, getting up from the chair himself. Harry followed suit.

"Are you nuts?! It's a case of simple misunderstanding. Just talk to each other and sort it out!" Harry argued back and Ron pushed open the door a little too roughly.

"It's not a case of 'simple misunderstanding', Harry, and I'd prefer if you and Ginny keep your noses out of my business," he responded looking directly at the younger boy. He noticed Harry's flared nostrils and the boy seemed to debate a bit about his next action. Finally, he turned away irritably.

"Fine, Ron. But you are being an arse," he hissed.

"Does it seem like I give a fuck?" he replied sarcastically. Harry, however, didn't walk away as Ron had assumed, but walked alongside in silence as the duo made their way towards the dungeons for their Potions class.

...

Hermione had had a terrible morning. First, she had forgotten her potion and had ended up throwing up her entire breakfast. Then, she had a terrible spell of dizziness and could barely concentrate on the Arithmancy lecture. Later, she found she had forgotten her Runes homework in her dorm and had to rush back and forth half the castle causing her nausea to aggravate further. Exhausted, she made her way towards the dungeons wondering if she had the strength to bear Snape's taunts for the next two hours.

She reached the corridor just outside the class and noticed a small group of Slytherins gathered around. It seemed as if the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had still not left the classroom, so she leaned back against the wall, watching as a few Gryffindors slowly trickled in. She closed her eyes momentarily, eager to get through the next two hours. She had a free period after lunch and could hardly wait to hit the bed for a quick nap. As the blabber of voices around her increased, she opened her eyes to see if they could go in.

"Do you think they'll throw her out?" asked Millicent loudly, and Hermione, not keen to hear their gossip, pulled out her copy of her Potion's book and began checking in her bag for the assignment scroll she had to submit.

"No, not yet. Our dear old Headmaster worked his magic to allow her to continue, _despite her pregnancy,_ " sneered Pansy, and her hand stopped in the process of flicking through the contents of her sling.

"Gryffindor privilege," joined Daphne and Hermione just about stopped herself from looking up.

"What I am wondering is, who is the lucky guy?" joked Pansy and the girls joined her as she laughed. Hermione knew they were very aware she was in their hearing range, in fact, they were being loud on purpose. She took in a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

"Draco, didn't your father say who the father of her child is?" asked Pansy again, her voice louder this time as students began filing out of the classroom, some turning around to hear what she was saying.

"No. Apparently she didn't say," he sneered. She could feel his eyes on hers so she looked up at him, jaws stiff with resolve.

"Perhaps she doesn't know who it is," Millicent intoned to general glee.

The crowd was getting larger now, almost everyone in their seventh year who took Advance Potions standing still, watching the Slytherins who were not being subtle with their taunts.

"Hey you guys, you are blocking the path!" yelled someone from the back.

"What the fuck is happening?" asked Seamus from behind her and Hermione watched as her housemates gathered around. She still couldn't see Harry... or Ron.

"Funny you'd ask that, Finnigan!" jeered Malfoy happily. "We were only discussing who our dear Headgirl fucked, you know? The guy who knocked her up!"

There was a collective gasp and as she closed her eyes, trying hard to hold back her tears of humiliation. She could feel all eyes upon her.

"Are you barking mad, Malfoy?" yelled Dean.

"Really, Thomas? Ask Gryffindor's golden girl if you don't believe me. You don't find her countering the allegations, do you?" quipped in Pansy, evidently enjoying herself enormously.

"What is happening?"

Hermione didn't know whether she was relieved or mortified as Harry pushed the crowd and moved ahead.

"Ah, there comes the father!" joked Draco only to be interrupted by Pansy again.

"Really?" she asked feigning surprise. "I thought she was fucking Weasley!"

Hermione closed her eyes wishing she could say something. But words had left her. All she wanted to do was run away and hide.

"Perhaps she's fucking both. That's why she hasn't said who the father of that thing is, she doesn't know herself! Or perhaps, he's a Muggle," Draco spat venomously, and she looked up defiantly at him through her tears. He did not look away, but smiled evilly instead.

"Perhaps there are way too many candidates, and for once, she doesn't know the answer herself," he added in a whisper that carried easily through the silent corridor.

No one saw what came next; Hermione surely didn't.

One minute Draco was spurring poison at her, the next, he was lying a few feet away, the effect of Ron's fist clear on his bleeding nose and steadily bruising cheek. Before Harry or Dean could hold him back, Ron was next to him again, and another punch landed on his jaw. The ginger, now red in the face with fury, pulled the blonde man up with a tight grip on his collar.

" _Say a word against her, you filthy bastard, and you'll spend the next few weeks in the hospital ward_ ," he hissed at Malfoy's face while the others gasped.

"Keep your hands off him!" yelled Pansy. "Draco is not lying, she is the one who-"

"SHUT YOUR UGLY MOUTH UP, PARKINSON!" he bellowed, and she took a few steps back, while Ron still held a struggling Draco against the wall. Malfoy frayed his hand, trying his best to get Ron's grip off him, but Ron had the benefit of his height and weight against the blonde's natural thin form. Even Harry and Dean who were trying to get Ron off Draco were not very successful in their attempts.

Hermione watched Ron as her tears finally escaped. The words around her were getting louder. Despite his chivalrous defence, the Slytherins had done the damage.

"WEASLEY!" barked Professor Snape, who it seemed, had finally decided to intervene. Hermione, though respectful to all her teachers, couldn't help wonder if he had only interrupted the show because his favourite student was getting hit.

"Detention for a week, Weasley," he sneered, and she noticed Ron glare back at the sallow skinned professor as he let his hold on Malfoy slacken. The boy slumped down on the ground as Parkinson rushed to sit next to him, cooing as if he was a war hero. Snape turned at Pansy and instructed her to take Malfoy to the hospital wing which she did easily after shooting an evil glare at her direction.

" Ravenclaws and Huflepuffs, surely you don't need special invitation to go to your next class. And the rest, move inside. Twenty points from Gryffindor for misbehaviour," he added to the general screaming from her housemates.

Hermione, however, stood standing as the students crossed her. She didn't want to face anyone, especially Harry and Ron. She watched her hands, still wondering if she could take the period off when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione?" she looked up to meet Harry's eyes. The green orbs held ample confusion along with a question he was too polite to ask. She looked away slowly making her way to the class as the boys followed.

The three of them took a table furthest from the teacher, Ron joining her after months. She only looked up from her books to watch the board, noting down the instructions and getting promptly to her cauldron. She was glad that Harry had not questioned further, although her silence would have been the confirmation. But, more than anything, she was scared to look at Ron. She had planned to talk to him after hearing the truth from Ginny. But now, as the news of her pregnancy was out, and in such a horrible manner, she didn't even know how he would react. She didn't know if he would believe her. She glanced up at him and realised he was watching her too, those blue orbs she loved full of pain. He smiled at her, a little strained one but the first in months and she returned a teary one, averting her eyes quickly.

The period dragged on slowly. As much as she craved for the time to pass away so she could run away, she also dreaded the questions the lunch time would bring. It wouldn't take long for the news to spread. Suddenly the idea of staying back at school appeared way less appealing. But where would she go? Even the Christmas holidays that were only two weeks away made her ansty. She would have to tell her parents, something she wasn't eager to do because she knew their reactions. A few tears of frustration escaped and she wiped them away hastily and concentrated on stirring her potion.

Finally, the period came to an end and she packed up her things quickly, eager to escape. Her stomach grumbled and she wondered if she could pick up something to eat and get away from the Great Hall before all the students gathered. It was her decision to keep the baby, and she knew that she'd have to face the school and the questions eventually. There was no question in her mind that she would stick to her decision with her head held high. But first, she had to face her friends- face Ron. And she was too exhausted for it at the moment.

She was the first to pick her bag and leave the room, and she did it without a backward glance.

...

Harry and Ron packed their things quickly but Hermione had finished her work before anyone else, which meant they were still wrapping up as she left. Ron noticed Harry glancing at him questioningly and busied himself with his books.

With Snape at the far end of the room, the humming of gossip had begun again, and he briefly heard his name along with hers from the back where Parvati and Lavender were huddled together. He glared at them before picked up his bag as Harry joining him. A glance around the room told him that many eyes were on him. He turned away and walked briskly out of the door.

"Ron?" called Harry when they had left the dungeons behind, and he didn't reply, knowing well enough what Harry was going to ask.

"Mate, do you believe what Malfoy said?" he asked anyway, and Ron remained quiet, the pain in his chest intensifying. The foul words were echoing inside his brain. No matter how mad he was with Hermione, _no one_ had the right to hurt her that way. He quickened his steps, eager to reach the Great Hall where he hoped he would find her.

"Ron!" Harry called, and this time, pulled on his sleeves to stop him.

"It's true then? Hermione is p-pregnant?!" he asked in disbelief. "When did you-"

"It's not mine," he replied, the words coming out more bitter than intended, hurting him more than he thought was possible. Harry looked gobsmacked.

"Are you sure, mate?" he asked not realising perhaps how the words pierced his already broken heart.

"I wouldn't leave her to fend for herself that way if it was now, would I, Harry?" he asked sadly before rushing away.

* * *

 **A/N:** I can't believe this took me a month to update. I hope my readers have not lost interest in it. Anyway, the posts now should be sooner. Thanks to each one of you for taking the time to read and a bigger thanks if you dropped me a review! Please keep those reviews me motivated.


	6. Desserts and Puddings

**A/N: Just a reminder that the Rating for this story has been upgraded to 'M'. :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Desserts and Puddings**

As Hermione rushed through the corridors towards the Great Hall, it was very clear that the news had spread through the Hogwarts walls like wildfire. It hardly surprised her as she passed through small groups hearing words and whispers along with her name. She didn't care to stop and look at them. She had a firm answer for ever wagging mouth, but her mental and physical strength were not quite up for the confrontation at the time.

Finally, she approached the Hall and making her way to the Gryffindor table, dumped her sling bag unceremoniously on the bench. The Hall mostly had the first and the second years but was steadily filling up with students of the senior classes.

She had just about located the tray of sandwiches when a fresh bout of nausea hit her and she collapsed back on the bench, taking deep breaths as the nurse had told her to. Realising that things would only go downhill the further she delayed eating, she managed to serve herself a couple of them and bit into one, chewing fast and swallowing quickly to ease her grumbling stomach.

"Sorry, love, Mamma has had a tough morning," she spoke silently to herself even as tears flooded her eyes. She wiped them off on her sleeve and took another bite before drinking deeply from her goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Hey, Hermione!"

She turned around to watch the overtly cheerful face of Romilda Vane and noticed that other sixth year girls standing next to her were eying her curiously. Knowing what was to come, she steeled up her nerves.

"Yes, Romilda?" she asked in her stiff business like voice; the girl faltered just a little.

"We were just wondering if you are feeling alright?" she asked, "I mean... we heard the Slytherins were nasty in the morning," she added not leaving much to doubt what she might have actually heard. "We are just concerned, you know?"

Hermione was sure whatever Romilda was feeling, concern was not one of it.

"I'd say, the correct word here is 'nosy', Romilda, not 'concerned'."

Hermione turned at the familiar voice. Ginny was standing behind her looking every bit like a pissed Molly Weasley. She dumped her bag next to Hermione's, placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and spoke to her classmate in looking quite as formidable as McGonagall herself.

"Why don't you and your pesky group of friends just go ahead and mind your own business? Hermione doesn't need your concern, thank you very much," she responded in a clipped voice.

"Need not be so rude, Ginevra. We were just being polite," responded a girl from the back. Hermione just wanted to get out and have some peace.

"As I said, Florence, the word is 'nosy'," she responded air quoting the word. "Not any other fancy word you choose to use," she added.

A crowd was gathering around them, and as much as Hermione appreciated Ginny standing by her, she couldn't wait to get away from it all. She looked longingly at the half eaten sandwich before pushing it away.

"No matter what you say, Weasley, Hermione Granger hasn't countered the allegations," added a girl in Slytherin robes. As much as Hermione could recollect, she too was a sixth year.

"And how does that concern you, Johnson?" spat back Ginny.

"It concerns all of us!" Johnson responded looking around at the others for support. "She is the school Headgirl after all! If she really is pregnant and expecting-"

"-then it is her sole decision. I don't think Hermione has asked any of you to help bring up the child, _has she_? No, she hasn't! Listen to this carefully all of you. Hermione is a legal adult, perfectly capable of bringing a child to this world if she so desires. And it is none of your bloody business what she does with her life. You can keep our concerns to yourself; she has friends to care for her. I hear any of you bugging her, I swear it'll be your face and my wand next," she threatened before spinning around and taking her place next to Hermione. The crowd slowly dissipated away, still muttering amongst themselves but wary of probing further. Ginny's Bat-Bogey hex was almost legendary.

Ginny pushed Hermione's unfinished plate back to her and pilled a few more sandwiches on it, her face glowing like the setting sun.

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione managed with a strained smile. She was still hungry but the churning in her stomach was intensifying again so she pushed the plate away slightly.

"Why couldn't you tell us? _Why didn't you tell me_?" It was hard to miss the hurt in Ginny's voice and guilt soared inside her.

"I wanted to-" she began, pleading for Ginny to understand.

"Is it Ron's?" Ginny asked instead and Hermione looked away quickly.

"Hermione, _please? Is this what he has forgotten?"_ Ginny beseeched.

 _How hard would it be to confide in her? Not hard at all_. Ginny was the closest friend she had after Harry and Ron. _Ron._ She hadn't confessed to him yet and it felt wrong to disclose it to anyone else before he knew the truth. Frustrating tears welled up again and she wiped them off hastily.

"I-I can't-" she managed and Ginny huffed in frustration. But the nausea got worse and Hermione quickly stumbled up, eager to reach the girls' loo before she threw up in the Hall and created a scene yet again. Leaving her bag where it was, she ran past two familiar tall figures on her way out.

...

Ginny watched her friend rush away just as her brother and her boyfriend had approached them. For a moment she thought Hermione just wanted to escape, but then she noticed the bag she had left behind and it struck.

"Get her bag, I'll go check on her," she instructed the boys quickly before dashing away too.

It only made sense that Hermione would attempt for the closest loo, so she rushed down the corridor and swerved a hard left, pushing open the third door and searching frantically for a closed cubicle while jostling between groups of eagerly chatting girls. It took her a while to hear over the din of voices, but she finally located one which seemed to be emitting noise like someone puking. She went over and stood outside it, waiting. Hermione emerged after ten solid minutes, looking pathetic. Her hair was all frizzy and a mess; locks sticking to a sweat coated forehead and tired eyes. It looked like she could easily do with a lie down. The crowd had left by then leaving the two alone, and Ginny wordlessly grabbed her friend by the shoulder, supporting her as the older girl walked towards the sink.

Ginny conjured a small towel and handed it to Hermione as the latter finished washing her face and clasped the counter for support.

"Tired?" she asked concerned.

"Yeah..."

"Do you wanna grab a bite? Looks like you could do with some food," she observed pushing Hermione's hair away from her face and rubbing her back gently.

"What's the point? I'll only throw up again. Probably just lie down for a while."

Ginny nodded solemnly, and the two girls walked out of the bathroom and made their way towards the Gryffindor Common Room. They were met midway by Harry who was carrying two bags apart from his own sack.

"Ron?" Ginny asked wordlessly, avoiding Hermione's eyes as they walked up the steps, holding Hermione between them. Harry gestured something which she hoped meant her brother was on his way.

They entered the empty common room, and Hermione slumped down on the couch and curled herself into a ball, resting her head on the armrest.

"Whose?" she asked Harry very softly, as they watched her standing a couple of feet away from the couch.

"Dunno," he responded pensively.

"Sure it's Ron's! That's what he has forgotten!" she told him with conviction.

"He says, it's not his," responded Harry, still in hushed whispers.

"He. just. doesn't. know!" she argued back. As hard as it was to believe Hermione getting pregnant while still at school, it was harder to believe that she was carrying a baby that wasn't her brother's.

"Did she-"

"No, she didn't," she huffed.

The portrait door opened again and they turned simultaneously to note Ron walking in with a tray full of assorted desserts and a plate of high-piled sandwiches. He placed the tray on the table and watched the curled up girl, looking torn.

Ginny watched her brother watching the girl he had fancied for years, and despite all the annoyance she felt at him for that Careen issue, she couldn't help feel bad. Sighing tiredly she gestured for him to join them. The three of them moved aside to the farthest corner of the room and she cast a Muffiliato before turning sharply at her sibling.

"Is it yours?" she asked without preamble. Ron's features hardened and he turned away.

"No," he whispered softly. It was hard to miss the pain behind the words.

"But mate it... I mean, you don't remember the night of the Bash, and you know-" Harry shrugged uncomfortably.

Ron exhaled and looked at both of them. "I was drunk, undoubtedly it was the backfiring potion that addled my brains further...but-" he looked away again and Ginny met Harry's eyes, they held the same confusion she felt.

"-I was with someone else," finished Ron with much difficulty. She gasped aloud.

"Look! I know it was a bloody mistake and what makes it fucking worse is that I can't remember a thing! But Hermione wasn't with me that night," he added painfully, fisting his hair and looking so anguished that it hurt.

"Not mine," he said again and looked away before finishing the sentence. "He is a Muggle."

"WHAT?" she gasped.

"You must be barking mad, Ron!" Harry was shaking his head furiously.

Ron looked at them and she felt terrible for how broken her brother looked.

"I overheard her talking to Madame Pomphrey few days after her birthday. I don't think she revealed his identity to anyone, but she did say he was a Muggle. And- And I met this guy at her place when I went down to pick her up for the Bash. He was smitten with her, _of course_ ," he chuckled bitterly. "Perhaps she was seeing him during summer? At least on one occasion, I know she was going out with him. Said so herself..."

Ginny was having a hard time processing all of it. A glance at Harry told her he was quite in the same state of shock as herself.

"Wait, wait, hold on!" her boyfriend responded. "It could all be a misunderstanding, eh Ron?" he asked looking very much like a man grasping straws.

Ron huffed but stayed quiet.

"I'm going to ask her," she declared and Ron grasped her wrist as she began to turn away.

"No, Gin you won't!" he ordered fiercely.

"You bet, I will, Ron!" she glared back, and getting rid of her brother's grasp over her hand, walked right off.

...

Hermione could hear faint whispers but she couldn't pull herself to look up. That was till she felt a soft hand on her shoulder. It was only the gratitude she felt for Ginny that made her look up. She even managed a smile, albeit a tired one.

"Feeling better?"

"A little, yes," she responded. Ginny smiled and glanced at an uncomfortable Harry. She noticed Ron was standing a few feet away. His sight brought in a hundred conflicting emotions, and she desperately wanted to curl right back.

"Hermione- we...erm..." Ginny glanced at Harry and took a deep breath before looking at her straight in the eye.

"Who is it, Hermione?" Hermione saw the pleading and she gulped down the guilt before looking away.

"Please, tell us?" Ginny beseeched once more and Hermione wiped a tear, hating her pregnancy hormones that made taking a decision so much harder. She wanted to confide but she was so scared of Ron's reaction that she held her tongue. Her heart told her that Ron would not be angry but there was still a fleeting chance, and that prospect scared her. On one hand, he had defended her, but on the other, he was seeing Careen. How could she tell him?

"Hermione?" Harry called and she turned again to find him kneeling in front of her.

"We are with you no matter what. You know that, don't you?" he asked lovingly and she nodded.

"I want to tell you but... I need some time, _please_?" she looked between Ginny and Harry who nodded; Harry supporting, Ginny reluctant.

"You must eat."

She glanced up to notice Ron who had moved closer; a hard, unfathomable expression on his features although his words were soft.

"I'll get something for us to eat too," said Harry from the side.

"I'll see you after class," added Ginny and the two quickly left them alone, closing the portrait door behind them.

Hermione watched Ron as he continued to look at her for a long time. Her poor little heart, tortured as it is was by her confusing pregnancy hormones, twisted painfully inside her. Hermione wanted this to be a fresh new start but given the past few months, she was terrified and sceptical of hoping.

Ron moved in closer and finally sat down next to her.

"Aren't you - " he paused, licked his lips and made an effort to smile. " –hungry?"

Her empty stomach chose that precise moment to rumble and she nodded just a little. He watched her and pulled the tray and placed it on his lap. She noticed it was loaded with desserts and sandwiches. It could easily be something Ron would plate for himself. It was also just the type of foods she seemed to be able to keep in. Sweets. Definitely, the baby had a fondness for sweets- just like the father.

"I have noticed you eat a lot of sweet stuff now, so I reckoned-" he broke off abruptly and shrugged a little, unaware that Hermione was again tearing up.

 _He said he noticed._

"Or, you could just have the sandwiches instead," he added consciously.

"No, I-I prefer the sweet items," she responded softly, realising that it was the first time she had spoken to him in months. He seemed to realise it too as he held her gaze. Hermione picked up the chocolate pastry and looked away quickly as her cheeks coloured. She bit into the soft cream, relishing the taste, her eyes almost closing in pleasure. She never had a sweet-tooth but this pregnancy seemed to have jumbled up her food preferences completely.

She ate in silence, picking the Cranberry pie next followed by chocolate cake. Ron simply sat there and watched. Finally, when she was done, she released a small, satisfied sigh and leaned back on the couch. She was pleasantly surprised at the amount of food she had managed to finish without having the urge to throw up even once. It was the most she had eaten in days.

Ron placed the almost empty tray back on the table before looking at her. He lifted his wand and a small kerchief appeared which he handed her.

"You've got..." he said pointing at her lips, and she took it and quickly wiped her face before meeting his gaze.

Words formed and died on her lips as his eyes searched hers for something.

"Won't you ask me what everyone has been asking?" She didn't know where that question came from, or perhaps she did.

Ron looked away, slouched low and resting his elbows on his knees, rubbed his palms together.

"You haven't told anyone, Hermione. You told Harry and Ginny you need some time. Doesn't make sense to push it, does it?"

She watched his profile, that sharp jawline and the long nose, and bit her lips to cut out the frustration. _How could he even believe that she would sleep with anyone but him?_

"Does he know?"

She was so caught up in her grief that she almost missed his words, spoken as they were so very quietly. "I'm sorry, wha-?"

"Does-" he gulped and his Adam's apple bobbed, "Does he know... you know, the father?" he muttered softly.

"No, not yet," she replied, still watching him. He nodded while looking away.

Ron finally turned at her and licked his lips a few times. Hermione could see a question in his eyes but she didn't want to hope and be left heartbroken. Whatever it was, it seemed to be troubling him.

Also, in her heart of hearts, she was fervently hoping for him to ask if the baby was his - it would be so easy to just say 'yes', wouldn't it?

"Hermione, you weren't forced into this, were you?" he muttered, though, words tumbling out quickly, apologetically, and she was stunned at the amount of pain the words seemed to be causing him: it was written all over that face she loved.

She looked away, remembering the tender care with which Ron had made love to her. She remembered how he had looked at her eyes with almost reverence as he entered and claimed her, kissing her till the pain of her broken hymen ceased. She remembered how she had arched her back, gripping his shoulders hard, and buried her face in his neck as he kissed her shoulder softly during the hard thrusts. And she remembered how he had wrapped his arms around her as he continued.

"It wasn't forced, not at all..." she replied slowly, looking away as another memory jolted her brains- that of Ron kissing Careen and watching her with anger as he did so.

..

Had Hermione looked back at him, though, Hermione would have seen the pain and relief that shattered Ron at her words.

* * *

 **A/N: A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU!**

 **I am just so terribly apologetic for having left this for so long. But December was a tough month with first a bout of flu infecting the entire family, and then my city being hit with a severe cyclonic storm that wiped out our network and power lines for days. But those times (hopefully) are all over and my other story In Search of Hermione is all wrapped up. So, I plan to update this in quick successions now onwards. Thanks to each one of you for your wonderful words, I haven't been able to reply to you in a while and I am sorry for it. I want you to know that each and every review and favourite/follow alert in my mailbox is immensely appreciated!**

 **I am not going to promise a quicker update because whenever I say that, the update seems to get jinxed. BUT do keep an eye out for this story next week (or even earlier, perhaps?). Thanks for reading!**


	7. Discussions and Decisions

**Chapter 7:** **Discussions and Decisions**

The week after the reveal was the hardest for Hermione but also the best so far in the year which was challenging at its best. Gossips and speculations were still circulating wildly in the common rooms and the corridors, most of which were purposely guided to her ears and that of her friends. Ron earned himself a month's worth of detentions defending her against the seventh year Slytherins, and two fifth year girls left the girls' lavatory sprouting extra large noses courtesy Ginny. Most of the students who were dumb enough to insult her on her face found themselves suffering from strange maladies and unexplainable accidents, forcing them to spend the best days before the holidays cooped in the hospital wing. Hermione was sure Ginny and Harry were behind these 'accidents' and most of their stockpile of supplies were being funded by Harry and provided by the twins. For once in her life, she didn't care to stop them from breaking the rules. It was now that she realised just how much she had missed these people, especially Ron.

Sitting on the old couch by the fire, with a heavy book of Runes on her lap, she watched the Gryffindor Quidditch team trudge inside the common room. Three of them waved at her before taking their mud-soaked selves up the stairs.

Turning around, Hermione glanced at the page she had been trying to read for the past half an hour and gave it one last try. She barely made it to the second paragraph before her thoughts drifted away yet again. She took a deep breath trying to soothe the anxiety that was intensifying now as the holidays came closer. But two faces kept cropping up in her mind, and she dropped the book aside and placed a careful hand on the slight bulge of her stomach. She glanced at the two closed letters that were tucked inside her Arithmancy book and rubbed her palms together, suddenly feeling very cold. Her father's letters were getting steadily more insistent. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that they were eagerly looking forward to discussing where she intended to apply for college, assuming on their own that she would bid goodbye to the Magical world and permanently take up Muggle life. His urgency annoyed and bothered her more now. How would they react when she told them that she would never leave the wizarding world, especially since the child she was carrying belonged here? And how would she tell them that the father of the child had no clue of the truth- that she had still not managed to confide in him, bogged down as she was by her own insecurities? How on earth would she tell them that, in all honesty, she was already making plans for her future in the Wizarding world?

Hermione glanced at her sling bag. Hidden in its depths were a couple of forms she was yet to fill up. The Magical Law College form had to be submitted by mid of Jan, and if she intended to get that scholarship, she would have to sit for their qualifying examination in Feb. She had no option but to crack it for she desperately needed the entire education to be sponsored by the College. McGonagall had made it clear that Hermione was targeting something that had so far been claimed only by two students so far- two students over the course of five hundred years. It would require every waking hour and some more for her to crack that and also excel in her N. E. W. Ts, the results of which too would be considered before they handed her that hundred percent scholarship. Hermione knew many would attempt it for fame if not for money, but for her, it was the only way that she could continue her education and still have funds spare to rent a room and afford childcare. In fact, even that would require her to take up a part-time job considering the College accommodation would not be available to a mother of an infant. The entire prospect scared her, and she pulled out her study materials and began reading again, forcing herself to concentrate.

"Hermione?"

She turned around at his voice and watched as Ron took long strides to reach and slump down on the couch next to her. His cheeks were flushed, quite possibly due to a hot shower which he must have had to rid all that dirt and grime off his self.

Ron rubbed his hands together and nudged closer to the fire, sighing happily at the warmth before turning towards her. Hermione looked away quickly, her face reddening for reasons other than cold. Her stomach fluttered in a strange way, sort of a small tickle and she placed a palm on her abdomen curiously.

"You're okay?" he inquired, concerned, and she gave him a small smile.

"Yeah."

"Not overexerting, I hope, Hermione," Ron added glancing quickly at her slight swell before pulling his eyes away to meet hers instead. Unknown to him she watched his every action wondering when she would be able to muster enough courage to tell him the truth. Every passing day made her guiltier for keeping him in the dark. She had almost told him after dinner on Thursday. But just when she had managed to get him alone, Careen had materialised from somewhere and called him- and Ron had walked away. He had returned a short while later looking pissed and dare she say, extremely uncomfortable. She had asked (very subtly of course) if all was well, specifically not hinting at anything that Ron might be doing with the girl. And instead of a proper clarification she had hoped for (and perhaps an explanation that that kiss was a one-time thing), he had simply shrugged and dismissed the question stating it wasn't important. She had taken it to mean that it was personal and she wasn't allowed to venture into those matters. The interruption had effectively finished any will she had had to make her confession. But despite that roadblock and a few others when Ron looked like on the brink of making some confessions of his own, Hermione couldn't help but soften towards the boy she had madly loved almost half her life.

"Hermione?" he called again pulling her out of her musings, and she noticed horrified that she had been staring at those cerulean blue eyes while being immersed in her own thoughts. She looked away quickly, flipping through the parchments in her hand just for the sake of doing something.

"Which subject is this?" he asked, scrunching his brows while reading her notes.

"It's my preparation notes for Law College," she replied, hoping nothing in her voice would give out how panic-stricken she felt.

Ron flipped the pages off her hands and read through the front cover before turning wide-eyed at her and returning her the notes.

"This is for that barkingly insane scholarship examination, isn't it? The one which no one manages to crack?" he asked incredulously and she managed a grin.

"Yes, it is for that 'barkingly insane scholarship', Ron."

"Why are you attempting it?" he asked seriously before quickly backtracking on his words, "I mean, you are bloody brilliant, Hermione, and no one has more chance of cracking it than you do. But it's due in Feb, right? We have our N.E.W. Ts in April and now-" he paused and gulped hard while looking at her abdomen again before meeting her eyes.

"Percy tried it, for three years no less; didn't manage to crack it. Locked himself in his room for days together after his last attempt. Even Fred and George got worried about him."

He placed his hand gently on hers which was still clutching the parchment. Hermione noticed how he licked his lips, cursing the way her heart yearned for him at the sight. It was misery on a totally different level as she tried fruitlessly to kept her thudding heart in control while he gently caressed her knuckles with his fingers.

"You have too much on your plate already, Hermione. You'll work yourself sick," he said softly. She looked away to hide those stupid tears that were beginning to cloud her vision. Taking a moment to get a grip on herself she turned towards him again, managing a small smile.

"I have to try. I need that scholarship, Ron."

"Try next year, when you know..." he paused and left his words hanging. She chuckled sadly.

"I'm not sure how much time or energy I'll have to prepare for it this time next year," she told him while looking resolutely at her lap. His fingers paused only for a moment and then wrapped around her hand more firmly and she continued. "I won't be able to afford to pay for the whole course; I don't have that kind of money. As it is I have to take up a part-time job to fund my lodging and, you know... the other stuff," she finished in a very small voice.

"How will you manage?"

His words were slow and so full of concern that she almost wished to turn around and fling herself into his arms. Merlin knew she needed it: that comfort and support. But she held back.

"I have to. When I decided to keep the baby I knew what I was putting myself into."

This time his hold over her hand slacked for a longer span of time. Finally, he pulled his hands away, and Hermione was silently brooding over the loss of that touch when he placed them on hers again; caressing very gently over the back of her hand with his long, slightly rough fingers.

"You are planning on telling your parents, aren't you?" he inquired. She looked up and noticed he was looking unwaveringly at the flames in the grate.

"Yes..." she replied.

His jaws stiffened though Ron never took his eyes away from the fire and for a brief moment, it appeared as if he was on the verge of saying something. But that moment passed; he blinked a few times rapidly before turning at her.

"How do you think they'll take it?" he asked and she let out a small bitter chuckle.

"My father has almost assumed I'll leave the wizarding world completely after school and take up some Muggle course."

He looked at her incredulously and gripped her hand, hard, "You won't do that will you, Hermione?" he asked not taking his eyes away from hers. "Bloody hell that's-" he shook his head, exhaled soundly and turned towards her.

"Look, I know it must be tough for you but you won't leave m- us like that, will you?" he asked; those blue eyes searching her face, almost pleading for a response.

For a moment there, it did not matter if he was seeing Careen, it didn't matter that she was carrying his child and he had no clue about it- all that mattered were those eyes that begged her to stay.

"I'm not going anywhere, Ron. This is my world too," she replied softly.

...

Careen watched from the shadows as Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger spoke in hushed voices. What they were speaking couldn't be heard, but she did notice how his hand found hers and stayed there. She looked away fuming, only to turn back and watch them again.

She had heard of Hermione's pregnancy; who hadn't? But she thought she knew something that perhaps even Ron, Ginny or Harry didn't. She was almost positive that Hermione was carrying Ron's child. It all fit in now. The realisation scared more than annoyed her. It became secondary now that Hermione Granger practically owned the guy she, Careen, fancied. And to be quite honest, it wasn't a surprise, she had always known it. But the past few months, and especially that amazing kiss, had given her some hope; all of it had come crashing now. Hermione's pregnancy meant that one day or the other, Ron was bound to find out about her lie. And when that happened, Ginny and Hermione would find that out too.

Careen was a smart witch who did not fancy having two fiery women like Ginny and Hermione pull their wands on her.

Ever since knowing of Granger's pregnancy, she had spent most of her free time watching the four of them from afar, fearful of her fate when the truth came out in the open. But it seemed Ron was as less eager about disclosing the happenings of the Bash night as she was. So, one day the previous week when the two seemed to get really cosy, she had intentionally walked up to them and asked to speak to Ron alone. She had noticed the change in the Head girl's expressions. To her relief, Ron had accompanied her outside, albeit very reluctantly. It was easy to figure out that he too had no intention of disclosing their supposed one-night affair to Hermione. Alone, hidden behind a tapestry, she had requested him to keep it a secret. She had pretended to be concerned about the Head girl's mental health and told him that Hermione was too disturbed already and could do without knowing something that could possibly upset her further, especially since it was all over anyway. Ron had grunted and walked away, but she knew she had cast her bet right. Ron would never do anything to hurt Hermione; he loved her way too much. She was still betting on Ron's amnesia, really hoping that he would never remember the night.

As Harry and Ginny joined the others, Careen moved away silently to her dormitory.

...

They walked together to the dining hall, Ginny and Harry walking a couple of steps ahead while he matched pace with Hermione. The conversation they had had was ringing in his ears and so was the pain that laced her words. Two emotions battled inside him tearing him apart. At times it was still hard for him to believe that Hermione was carrying David's child- it broke his heart, every single time. But at the very same time, she was still Hermione, his best friend, the girl he was still madly in love with. He knew she dreaded telling her parents about her pregnancy. The Grangers always felt a little lacking in emotional care as parents. He almost had the urge to Apparate down to them and yell at them. After all, David was the favourite student who they had graciously welcomed into their home. _And into their daughter's bed_ , added his brain and he almost stopped walking as intense hatred blinded him momentarily.

"Ron?" she called and he turned at her, adjusting his expression and nodding dismissively at her confused gaze.

It was bloody unfair that Hermione alone had to bear the brunt of- the fatal attraction, or perhaps momentary passion? He didn't know what to call it, and honestly, he didn't wish to think of it as often as his brain purposely made a point to reminded him. But despite all of it, Hermione was hurting, and that bothered him more than anything else. He knew how much pressure she was putting on herself. As limited his knowledge of pregnant women was, he was sure that much stress couldn't be good for her.

They reached the Great Hall and took their places, and he was quick to pull some desserts towards them and push the beef and bacon away. Hermione mostly had a retching spell when she smelled those.

"Did you have your potion?" he asked, filling her goblet with pumpkin juice, very aware of the soft whispers and stares that they were causing. He couldn't care less.

"Yes, thanks, Ron," she smiled at him and he grinned back, indicating her to eat. She served herself a minimal amount of food and began taking small bites. He chewed on his bread wondering how he would even survive if she left. He feared about it even before she told him about her father's wish. Her response back in the common room abated that anxiety but only partially. He was still sceptical about her parents. What if they forced her to stay back? Feeling like an excessively large lump of something was stuck in his throat, he gulped down a large volume of pumpkin juice and glanced again at the girl next to him who was talking softly to Harry, Ginny and Neville.

He needed her in his life, always. The thought was not new but suddenly so powerful and insistent that he almost choked. Hermione glanced at him and wordlessly handed him his goblet. He managed a weak smile while accepting it. She went back to her discussion and he went back to his thoughts.

She was brilliant, brave and independent. He knew, if anyone could do it, it would be her. But it was obvious that once the baby came along, life would be hard for her. It would be very difficult if not downright impossible to manage everything by herself. She would need help with the baby _._

 _David's and Hermione's baby._

He smiled at something mechanically but swallowed hard at the thought. The hurt was still raw but he managed to push it away. Perhaps this was all that he was destined for? Whatever it was, he knew he would never be able to stop loving her. If she needed him just as a friend, he would still be there. The trainee Aurors were also paid a stipend. It wouldn't be easy, but together they would be able to manage. He decided that he would have to breach the topic soon. He would not leave her; he wouldn't survive if he did. And if Hermione would have him, he would always be there for her- even if she needed him just as a friend. And maybe he would grow to love the baby too?

 _David's baby_.

 _No,_ he told himself sternly.

 _Hermione's baby._

Yes, he could surely grow to love her baby.

* * *

 **A/N:** I will be honest with you all. I have been pretty conflicted about this plot ever since I saw all of you craving for Ron to know the truth. I faced tremendous dilemma wondering whether to keep my readers happy by providing instant gratification or stick to the plot as I had envisioned it. Finally, after an intense internal debate and three sleepless nights pondering over the repercussions, I have come to a decision. It will alter the storyline a bit, but hopefully, both you and I will be happy by the end of it.

I know these chapters are shorter, but the story calls for me to limit this here. There was something else planned for this chapter (something big had to happen) but this had to come first. If all goes well, I should be able to post the next chapter by next Thursday.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I am so happy to see your responses!

 **P.S.** Romione Tumblr Awards 2016 has begun. Don't forget to nominate your favourite works!


	8. Puzzle Pieces in Place

**A/N: I am really sorry this has taken me so long to update. But I have been really confused with the plot change that I had mentioned about in my previous author's note. I was not completely happy with the make-to-do alterations and that hampered my writing. I always plan out the whole story in advance and the change meant that I had to get back to my drawing board again (not something I prefer doing once I have started a story). Anyhow, I have finally managed to map out the whole thing once again. And to answer Warnamagenta and anyone else who might be wondering, this story will be precisely 10 chapters long. So even if things are not going as you want to see them at the moment, please be patient – it will all work out and soon.**

 **Special shoutout to CallieSkye who I bugged a lot while bouncing ideas for this one. And although I didn't include the part that we discussed (I'm planning to use that in a one-shot), still thanks a tonne for lending your patient ears that evening. You are a darling!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Puzzle Pieces in Place**

Hermione wiped off another tear and continued with her packing before she glanced around her room once more. There wasn't much stuff left here as most of it was already at Hogwarts; just a few more books and clothes, and most importantly all her documents.

She did not bother to turn around as footsteps sounded close to the partly opened door.

"So you have made up your mind."

She let out a sigh and dropped the dress into her bag before turning around to face her mother. Hermione wasn't sure what she hoped to see on the face that was so starkly similar to her own, a bit of concern and apology perhaps? But her mother stood still, stiff with a clear trace of scowl and disdain marking her pretty features.

"You have made it clear I have no place in this house any longer, Mum," she responded before returning back to arranging her books in a neat pile that were carefully deposited inside the magically enhanced backpack.

"We have made it clear that the child you are carrying has no place in our home. You, on the other hand, are our only child. You belong here."

Hermione dropped the last book in shock and stared hard at her mother for a moment before breaking into a bitter laugh. Her mother didn't seem to be very pleased.

"You want your child to be with you and you expect me to give mine away?" she managed bitterly as her voice cracked by the end, and she looked away resolutely from the woman who was still standing at the doorway.

"Hermione Granger, don't you dare use that tone with me. I can't believe you got so careless as to get pregnant with-" her mother paused, heaving and practically red with fury. She took time till her breathing eased before resuming. "You are making a mistake," she added forcefully. "You have your whole life ahead of you. You are destined for a bright future. You can achieve so much! Why would you even want to have a child at this age?"

"Is that what you would have done if you were pregnant with me while you were still at college? Given me up for adoption?" she barked back in anguish. She never expected her parents to understand but what they were not only suggesting but also pressurising her to agree to, was preposterous.

"I wouldn't be so foolish!" fumed her mother. "And even if I did get pregnant, it was different for us!" she added, for once breaking her composure, "we are nor-"

Hermione stood stunned at the woman who had given birth to her, her hand instinctively reaching the small bump.

" _Normal?_ Is that what this is, Mum?" she cried softly unable to believe the words were coming from her own mother. "You think of my child as an abomination, do you? Because if that is true, I am an abomination too!"

"Ridiculous! You are our child, Hermione! You can easily be a part of our society and leave that hocus-pocus land at your will! But this-this child carries _his_ blood. Oh, Hermione, _how could you?_ " her mother paused, possibly at a loss of words and Hermione didn't even bother to wipe off the tears of anger that were cascading down her cheeks.

She returned to her packing and made a quick work of pilling everything inside the rucksack before pulling it shut and adding a spell it to make it lighter. Grabbing up her moneybag she picked up the remaining of her belongings before turning at her Mum again.

"No matter what you and Dad choose to believe, Mum, I have and will always be a part of that world. That is where I belong – with or without my child. I told you about Ron because you guys are my parents and deserved the truth, and that's all. This is _my_ child, and no one but me decides whether to keep the baby or not."

Her mother glared hard at her before moving away and Hermione walked out of the door into the corridor.

"You are not to come back here if you continue to be so adamant about having the child. Your father and I decided you were to settle in this world after your so called 'schooling' came to an end. We have had enough with magic," she pressed on, on what hope Hermione had no clue. So, without bothering to reply she walked down the steps and out of the door.

...

Hermione watched the brown owl fly away and once it was out of sight, she picked up the small package and with a small smile at the kind lady at the counter, made her way out of the door into the snow covered lane.

The shops were still glittering with Christmas lights although the streets were far emptier now. She trudged on towards the end of the street where the brick archway marked the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. The place brought back memories which she could do without at this point in her life, but it was also the only place she could think of- somewhere close to the world she belonged in.

That owl would take a while to reach the Burrow and although she had initially contemplated whether she wanted her friends to know the predicament she was in, she was actually tired, both physically and mentally, and had no strength left for the arguments that were sure to come later if she kept them out of this truth of her life too. And more importantly, she wanted to avoid the situation where Ron or anyone else came face to face with her parents and got to know the truth. It wasn't time yet.

She wrapped the scarf more securely as the biting cold wind lashed at her face and wrapped her arms close to her body for warmth, quickening her steps.

Even the dark and slightly dusty interior of the Leaky Cauldron felt warm and cosy after her walk and she quickly made her way up the steps to the room she had taken up. On her way, she crossed the room she had occupied with Ron that night and her steps faltered for just a second in front of it before she pulled herself together and walked away. Once inside her own room, Hermione was quick to collapse on the bed.

Her whole being felt cold and it wasn't just the weather that was at fault. Exhaustion when coupled with hurt, is a dangerous thing. For the thousandth time since leaving her parents' home, she contemplated about telling Ron the truth. She could do with some support and the past couple of weeks gave her hope. But she had already spent five months hiding this huge thing from him. Would he believe her now? She let out a bitter chuckle and rid her swelling feet from the confines of the boots. Then climbing into the bed properly, she tucked herself inside the quilt, relishing the warmth.

The thought that nagged her frequently came back in full force once again and she allowed it to assault her senses hoping she would have some answers if she thought through it again. Whose child did Ron assume she was carrying? _Did it never occur to him that he could have fathered her child?_ All the clues were right in front of him after all - the amnesia, her anger, her pregnancy the duration of which coincided exactly with the Bash. _How could he not know?_ If she was honest with herself, she could actually forgive him for being aloof and angry with her; she hadn't treated him very well when school started. And considering that he didn't remember their night together or know of her pregnancy earlier, he would have been hurt at her behaviour. But that was all in the past. What about now? _Now_ he knew it all. How hard was it to connect the dots? Wasn't it obvious? Didn't Ginny guess correctly? Why couldn't Ron figure it out?

Her stomach grumbled aloud and she pulled out the small package and unwrapping the cupcakes bit into them, sighing in relief. It was snowing again. She pulled out the small envelope from the other pocket and read over the terms once more. The book keeping job at Flourish and Blotts wouldn't be enough to fund all her expenses, but at least it was a start. If she could manage to get the Rune Translation contract Mr Picket was talking about, it would be an added advantage. She still needed to find a place to lodge now that she had nowhere to go once she graduated. The thought choked her up and took another bite while forcing herself not to think of the past but only focus on the future.

The four cupcakes vanished within minutes, still leaving her as famished as she was before. Hermione could do with a nap but her stomach grumbled again and she grudgingly pulled herself out of the warm quilt. Slipping on a pair of more comfortable footwear she left her room once more hoping to catch a quick dinner before she retired for the night.

...

"Hermione?!"

It took Ron a few solid minutes to believe his eyes and he quickly pulled out the chair opposite hers and placed his tray down a little harder than he intended, slopping some of the soup off his bowl onto his plate of bread.

"Ron?!" she gasped in response and placed her fork back as he occupied the chair.

"What are you doing here?" they asked in unison and Ron noticed her taking a longer pause, so he spoke first.

"I was here to meet the twins. They gave me a potion which they hope is the antidote," he provided while looking at the far corner of the room. He had been wary of drinking anything his brothers wanted him to, but they were insistent that the potion would trigger some of his memories or at the very least cause some reaction that would help them prepare the next antidote (if it came to that).

He turned towards her, releasing a small sigh as their eyes met. He didn't need to see her here. It brought back a lot of pain – the place where it all went downhill when it was suppose to witness a start of a better future.

"Your turn," he prompted. "Why are you here?" he asked and quickly glanced at his watch. It was quarter past seven, too late even if he assumed she came in for some shopping and was just grabbing a bite. Moreover, it did not appear as if she had been shopping at all.

Hermione looked uncomfortable and Ron just about stopped himself from placing his palm over hers.

"I left home."

"WHAT?!" he gasped as the few other diners glanced at them irritably. Ignoring them he pushed his own plate aside to take her hand in his.

"Hermione?" he called softly as she looked at her lap and Ron was sure she was fighting tears.

"Where is all your stuff?" he asked again as she sniffed. This time she met his eyes briefly before looking away and brushing off her tears on the sleeve of her other arm.

"Upstairs. I took a room, I needed a place to stay," she provided haltingly without looking at him. He released a breath and made up his mind quickly.

"Let's go," he said getting up and picking up both their trays. She met his eyes, confused.

"Where to?"

"Your room. We need to talk." Hermione looked around them and after a moment's hesitation picked herself up.

She led the way and Ron followed her a few steps behind. They crossed the staircase and he almost tripped over his own feet as they crossed the room he had apparently spend the night on the day of the Bash. Hermione, however, paused only when she reached the far end of the corridor and pushed open the door to her room. Ron knew she was going through a lot but somehow her posture looked stiff and uncomfortable. He paused at the door, suddenly unsure if he was invading her privacy. Did she even want him here?

"I probably- well, too late to ask but – are you alright with me entering your room?" he asked. Since when did their relationship become so formal? 'Since the time she got pregnant by someone else', provided his brain quickly. He pushed aside the fury that was beginning to rise, turning his concentration on her.

"Why are you even asking me that, Ron?" she asked in a very strange voice and then walked towards him. She took the trays from his hands and placed them on the small table that sat next to an old couch. Ron entered tentatively and Hermione went back to close the door behind him.

Alone with her in a room in Leaky Cauldron, Ron looked around, fighting the images that rushed to him. This room was bigger than the one he had slept in. This one had a desk facing a window that looked over Muggle London and also a couch and a centre table. An old wooden wardrobe stood at one corner, next to the bed that took up most of the space in the room. The blankets were all ruffled indicating that Hermione had slept here for a while at least.

"When did you get here?" he asked noticing that she was now sitting on the couch with her legs folded under her, the food tray on her lap.

"Around noon," she replied trying her best to sound casual. He took a few long strides and occupied the space next to her. He wanted fucking answers. He wanted to know what had happened for her to leave her place altogether.

He had almost pulled the tray away from her hands and turned her around but then he noticed that she was busy eating, and hurriedly too. Ron picked up his tray, deciding that conversations were best left till they had some food in their bellies. He could do with some too. And then, he needed to take another sip of that blasted antidote.

When they both were done and the empty trays were pushed aside, he turned sideways, eagerly waiting for her to speak up.

"I'm still waiting," he said a little impatiently not missing how stressed she looked. She turned sideways, facing him better, and began fidgeting with her fingers and he placed his hand gently on hers this time.

"They wanted me to either abort or give away the baby for adoption once it was born." The pain in her words almost broke his heart and he only refrained from pulling her into his arms because he wasn't sure if she wanted him that close.

"I am not going through all this to give my baby away," she whimpered and Ron gripped her hand harder. His feelings were all a mess. He wasn't even sure how he felt about anything anymore, except that he wanted to take her pain away.

"It's okay," he managed because he wasn't sure what else to say.

"I am so tired, Ron," she openly sobbed this time and leant forward towards him. As much as he craved to wrap an arm around her, he refrained, allowing her to choose what she wanted. Hermione placed her head on his shoulder and he stiffened as something in his chest groaned. He was miserably in love with this girl, but all she wanted from him was a friendly shoulder to lean on while she cried for another man and her child.

"You shouldn't work yourself up so much, Hermione. It's done, you don't have to listen to anything they say," he told her. "It's your baby, and your decision," he added as an afterthought. Hermione pressed her face into his shoulder and whimpered, and Ron used every bit of his strength trying to keep his heart from getting more damaged. He kept reminding himself that he was being her best friend here – a best friend who was also madly and irrevocably in love with her, his brain provided unhelpfully.

Ron wasn't even sure how long they stayed that way but Hermione eventually moved away, her eyes swollen and red.

"Ron, I-" she began, looking at him in the eye and in that moment, sitting so close to her, he felt like he had done this before. He felt like they had shared a similar moment before too, he had seen the way those lashes curled slightly, seen the blush mark her cheeks so deep. Why did it seem like he had been here before? Was it another fucking side-effect from that drug? Or was it a part of his dream?

"Have they found the antidote?"

It took Ron a moment to process her words and he shook his head a little, pulling his hand away to run it through his hair tiredly.

"They've given me one," he sighed, "but I don't feel any difference. And that reminds me, I am supposed to have a dose now." He pulled out the small vial and gulped a mouthful of the bitter liquid while Hermione eyes the bottle sceptically.

"Are they sure this will work. It won't make you – you know, forget things again, will it?" she asked slowly, almost cautiously as her tired eyes seemed to droop a little.

"I hope not," he provided with a dry chuckle. "At least you will know where I was if that happens," he added as a weak attempt at a joke but she looked away quickly and getting up, tapped her wand to make a couple more candles light up.

"You should head home, your Mum will be worried," she responded without looking at him. She sounded aloof and he assumed it was her pregnancy mood swings at work again.

"I'll go in a while after the twins check on me. They need to check my blood for reactions," he provided while picking himself up. Ron glanced around at the room once and then walked ahead to where she stood with her back towards him, flipping through a book on the desk.

It was a split second decision but it made more sense. He placed his hand gently on her shoulders and turned her around. "Come home," he told her. "Stay with us, you don't have to do this alone."

She forced a smile before looking away resolutely. "I can't, Ron. Besides, your Mum doesn't know-"

"We'll tell her –" he watched her, words stuck in his throat at what he was about to spell out.

"Tell her what?" she asked slowly and he faltered. He was being way too presumptuous here.

"You need someone to take care of you," he insisted instead, and this time, she pushed his hands away and moved away to sit on the bed.

"I can take care of myself, thank you," she added stiffly. He groaned exasperatedly.

"Do you really need to be so stubborn?" he asked irritated and she glared hard at him.

"I don't want to face your parents now, Ron. I don't want your Mum to think I am-"

"For Merlin sake, Hermione! She will get to know one day! I can't leave you here all by yourself! What if you fall sick?" he exclaimed flaring his arms for emphasis.

"I told you, I can take care of myself, Ron!" she spat back.

"Fine then! I'm staying here as well," he announced and collapsed on the couch, his long legs dangling from one end. Hermione looked petrified. Ron knew he was crossing his limit, forcing his presence in her room but the thought of her staying here all by herself was frightening. The Cauldron had an assortment of wild guests and even if the rooms were warded, the thought of leaving her alone worried him.

"You are being a prat, Ron!" she screeched as she left the bed to stand in front of him, hands on her hips. The swell of her abdomen was more pronounced this way and Ron averted his eyes.

"You are the one making it difficult, Hermione!" he retorted angrily. "Mum might be a little upset with your- your 'situation', but do you think she'll spare my head if I leave you here all by yourself in this condition?!" he argued.

"I am pregnant, not mortally ill!" she spat and his answer was cut short by the enthusiastic hooting of an owl that chose that moment to appear at the windowsill. Pig, way too excited to see Ron, fluttered around his head till Ron finally caught the small owl in his hands and pulled out the note and handed it to Hermione. It could only be hers.

Hermione unfurled the note and exhaled soundly. "It's Ginny," she replied in a flat voice. "I dropped you all a note after I arrived. She says the same thing. Your Mum wants me at the Burrow as well..."

"It's settled then," he said and turning over the parchment and picking a quill from her table scribbled his own response and set Pig away.

"We are going so you better get ready," he declared. She squared her shoulders and he prepared himself for another round of bickering but she deflated after a while.

"I don't want to face your Mum," she said in a very small voice and Ron felt his annoyance from a moment ago draining away.

"Don't work yourself up. It'll be all fine, I promise," he responded with a small smile. She looked away.

"I set up everything," she responded glancing around, "I'll have to pack again."

He checked his watch. They said they needed his blood samples two hours after taking the potion. "Do that, I'll wait," he replied and slumped down on the couch and closed his eyes, suddenly very sleepy.

...

 _Ron struggled in his steps as the person entwined in his arms pressed more firmly into his chest. Without bothering to take his lips off hers, he paused for a minute and lifted her up in his arms. Her arms wrapped more firmly around his neck and he quickened his pace, covering the length of the corridor in long strides. He pushed open the first door on his left but finding it closed moved over to the next. It was only the third that opened at his touch and he wasted no time in placing his companion on the bed._

 _He was heaving slightly but it didn't seem to be as much from the effort of carrying her as it was due to her proximity._

 _The girl was sitting at the edge of the bed and Ron found himself taking his place quickly next to her. His eager hands were quick to move into her hair and crush his lips on hers- it was bliss, pure and unadulterated. He closed his eyes as she moaned into his mouth, the lips parting slightly and giving him the permission to deepen his advances. He pulled her into his lap and his over-enthusiastic approach caused her breasts to press against his chest. She whimpered and he moaned aloud, gripping her harder and pushing his tongue deeper into her mouth, sucking and tasting. It felt like Firewhiskey but sweeter and so delicate that for a minute he wondered if he was hurting her._

 _He finally pulled away and she pressed her face into his neck, peppering small kisses over his t-shirt and he knew he needed that blasted thing off. He pushed her away slightly and with one smooth pull, removed and threw off the garment somewhere. Her lips were quick to latch onto the hollow of his throat and he arched his body as smaller, softer palms pressed over his chest. She moved a little and before he could protest, tender kisses marked a trail from his throat to his navel to stop just above his bellybutton. This time she climbed onto his lap again, placing her knees on either side of his waist and ran her fingers through his hair, lifting his face slightly before letting out a small giggle and bringing her lips to his. His arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled away from the kiss. She protested by tugging gently on his hair but the next minute she gasped aloud as he placed his mouth directly over the mound that was enticingly at his eye level. Her moan shot a wave of pleasure straight to his groin and he traced his tongue over the satin covered breast, soaking the material. He allowed his lips to trace over till he located the small nub and focused his attention on it, biting it ever so slightly with his teeth. An array of incomprehensible words escaped her lips and her body arched giving him more access. But he didn't want to taste the fabric anymore, so his hand went up to the zipper at the back which he knew held the dress together. The strap slid off easily from her left shoulder revealing a simple white bra, and Ron's fingers were quick to remove the cup. His hungry mouth latched onto the newly revealed flesh and she moaned louder as he pulled the other strap off while still busy sucking at her nipple. She whimpered as his fingers rubbed over the other nipple and he shifted his attention to the other one while the fingers of his right hand played with the soft mound that was wet with his saliva. The bra cup was pulled down, and this time, he bit a little harder before she whimpered aloud in pain. Not sure how to handle and still unbearably turned on, he licked where he had hurt her and she relaxed only to grip his hair harder and moan aloud as his mouth continued with its ministration._

 _Panting heavily she pushed him aside and bounded off the bed and he groaned in frustration. He was way too aroused to play games._

" _Ron?" she called and he leaped off from the bed behind her._

" _Ron," she called again and this time he pulled her by the shoulder to crash on his chest while simultaneously peeling off her dress down her arms._

" _RON!"_

 _He pushed back, surprised realising for the first time that her face seemed hazy. And he felt a nudge on the shoulder although his companion hadn't moved at all. What the fuck was happening?_

"RON WEASLEY!" Hermione yelled, and this time, Ron opened his eyes, brows scrunched in confusion.

"Who sleeps like that?!" she announced loudly, looking particularly shaken before glancing at him and quickly turning away.

"Wha-" he began before a horrible realisation struck him. He fumbled for a pillow to hide the huge bulge in his pants before mumbling a weak apology and rushing into the loo.

He emerged a solid ten minutes later, body parts all in control except for his head that was buzzing way too loudly.

"Erm, I -" he swallowed hard while Hermione remained facing away from him. "I guess the potion is causing some odd side effects," he mumbled and she made a noncommittal sound to acknowledge she had heard him.

Rubbing his much too warm neck, he licked his lips. "I'll just go and meet the twins. I'll be back in a while."

Once again she only responded with a small, "hmm" and he made his way out determined to kill his brothers. _What the fuck was that anyway?_ He couldn't remember a thing from that night but the images from his dream were now etched onto his retina. But the most annoying part was that he had no clue who the girl in his dreams was.

...

"It will be the right time for you to own up if it's a Weasley in there, Ron."

Ron chose to ignore his sister's comment, concentrating on his plate as his mother fretted over Hermione. He was thankful to Ginny for volunteering to break the news to their Mum, and although a little miffed at her carelessness, she had pulled Hermione in into a hug upon their arrival and followed it up with food and advice. Ron was worried his Mum would poke and prod till Hermione spelt out the name of her child's father, but so far, things were looking good. It had been only three days and Hermione already looked better nourished and healthy, possibly it had a lot to do with motherly care. He didn't know if his parents believed Hermione wasn't carrying his child. His Mum had already cornered him once and once again, Ginny had come to his rescue. It was hard to say if his Mum believed him but hopefully, she didn't think him to be so pathetic so as to not man up to his responsibilities in such a situation. Harry's parents knew about her pregnancy too, and although still slightly conscious with all the attention she was getting, Hermione seemed to be adjusting well.

"How is the antidote working?" Ginny asked in a hushed whisper again.

"Fucking messing up with my brain," he grumbled. That was the truth. He dreams were an odd jumble of things that had happened and things that he wished or hoped, so much so that he was almost willing to give up having the potion altogether. But his brothers were insistent that it was working just as it was expected to and one day soon the dormant memories would come to the fore. He hoped that would be quick before he lost his sanity completely. The dream he had haunted him still. He still couldn't visualise the face and it scared him to think it could be Careen. It was too fucking realistic to be just a dream.

"I guess you'll have to shift to St. Mungo's."

His ears picked up the name of the hospital and he focused his attention on the conversation his Mum and Hermione were having.

"Oh, I was expecting Madame Pomfrey would be able to-" she began consciously, pointedly ignoring him.

"No, dear, I don't think Poppy will be able to handle it. Don't you worry, Lily and I will be there," his mother responded, patting Hermione's hand with hers and he felt a huge rush of affection for his Mum.

"May, isn't it?" she asked and Ron noticed Hermione flush a deep scarlet.

"Yes, 9th May," she added while he cursed his heart, once again wondering how it would be if she was carrying his child. His Mum would probably kill him and then pamper Hermione to the moon and back, he thought with a smile.

"Did she tell you anything else?" asked Ginny again.

"Nope. I don't think I want to know either," he replied. His sister watched Hermione for a long time before responding with a long drawn "hmm".

...

It was way too late on a Saturday morning when Ron woke up drenched to his bones. He removed the heavy Gryffindor coloured covers from over him and rushed into the loo attached to the dormitory. Splashing the ice cold water on his face and staring hard at his own shocked reflection in the mirror, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Fuck!" he mumbled to himself. His brain was blank, a mixture of shock and relief and also a fair bit of confusion coursing though his brain and messing everything up.

This dream was vivid and even with his eyes open, he could almost see it all again. He could see the girl wrap herself in his arms. He could see her naked body spread over the sheets, her hair spread over the pillow like a hallow. He could see her moaning as he slowly pulled her knickers away, keeping it aside almost reverently. He remembered the slight hitch of her breath and the momentary stiffening of her muscles as he pried her legs apart. He also remembered kissing her then, slowly, passionately, telling her all that he felt for her and feeling her relaxing under him. He could never forget the way she lowered her eyes and blushed crimson under his gaze. He remembered the insane amount of love he felt for her. Her giggle as he fumbled between her legs, still rang in his ears. He remembered being eager but unsure. He could almost see the determination in her eyes, that familiar expression as she took his hand in hers and guided him to her folds, looking away coyly although her body arched as his fingers traced her most private parts. He remembered her teaching him silently where and how to touch even as the gesture caused her to blush and caused him to moan. He remembered the smile they shared and could almost see the mirth slowly morphing into shyness and lust and his fingers finally found their way inside her. He could hear the gasp and that moan and the way her eyes fluttered shut at his ministrations. He remembered how he managed to enter her after two failed attempts. He remembered the way he felt sheathed inside her folds, her soft whimpers as his thrust broke her hymen, the way she buried her face in his chest, the way he tried to be gentle although it was insanely hard to have a hold on his raging manhood.

Finally, Ron remembered everything. He remembered how he had made love to Hermione that night.

* * *

 **A/N: Extremely thankful to all of you for your feedbacks. Only two more chapters to go. I promise to make up for all the angst with heavy doses of goodies. Thanks for reading and looking forward to that review!**


	9. To be with You

**Chapter 9: With You**

Ron groaned aloud gripping the stone washbowl hard till his knuckles ached. His brain seemed to be bursting at the seams with all the information, memories and emotions, and it was all a jumbled mess. For brief moment he pondered if it was another dream or a hallucination the likes of which had been troubling him for almost a month now- way since the end of December. But unlike the previous occasions, this piece of dream did not disappear or get hazy around the edges when he tried to recall it. It was vivid, detailed and fit in perfectly with what he remembered earlier.

 _Hermione had been drunk and she had confessed that she needed the alcohol to feel brave. And then, she had been the one to initiate the kiss._

"Blimey," he muttered softly to himself, and suddenly he couldn't wait another second to meet her. He rushed out of the loo and grabbed the clothes he had discarded unceremoniously at the edge of his bed the previous night. His jumper was still not pulled all the way down when he clambered down the steps into the common room which was almost empty except a few fifth years- all huddled around large volumes.

He glanced at the large clock to find it was close to eleven. The day seemed to have bestowed them with a rare glimpse of the sun.

"Neville!" he called as his dorm-mate entered through the portrait hall covered in mud; twigs and leaves stuck out from various places on his clothes.

"Seen Hermione?"

Nevile wiped his face on a sleeve which was only marginally dirt free.

"She's coaching some fifth years on Arithmancy. Left hours ago, didn't she?" he responded while a clump of mud dropped from his elbow on the floor. The guy looked down at it apologetically and hurried towards the steps.

"Yeah, right. I forgot," Ron mumbled almost to himself before calling out again.

"What about Ginny and Harry?"

"Eh? Dunno!" yelled back Neville from almost the top of the staircase. "Must be outside, mate, the weather is great!"

Ron groaned and slumped onto the couch, running a hand through his messed up hair. His heart was still thumping madly but a part of him was relieved that Hermione wasn't there already. He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to tell her, or how he felt about the whole episode now that he knew the truth.

He looked out of the huge window, seeing without actually noticing the bright rays of the sun that filtered in through the glass. What was he suppose to say? How was he supposed to feel? All he could decipher now was a fair amount of shock and confusion, and panic. Yes, a lot of panic. He was going to be a father.

Fuck!

It was good, great in fact, he reasoned with himself cringing at all the horrible images his brain had conjured ever since he had come to know of Hermione's pregnancy. But now, he could sort it all out. At least he wanted to. He wanted answers why she couldn't have told him the truth. Closing his eyes he began processing the happenings right after that night, going over everything that had happened and her reactions the best he could remember. Everything made a lot more sense now.

The large growl from his empty belly was the trigger that made him open his eyes. Alright, it seemed he had cocked-up, and quite a lot. But she wasn't off the hook either. She _knew_ he had forgotten and not as if he done it on purpose. She could have told him, couldn't she? Ginny and Harry both had told her about his amnesia, and, agreed, he had given that cringe-worthy show when he had kissed Careen, but he had tried making it all up to her! He was hurt and angry, he reasoned feverishly to himself. Not like he was dating Careen, for fuck sake! More importantly, it had been more than a month and a half now since they were back to being friends and he had been there for her. She had enough time to tell him, didn't she?

 _Probably he would have guessed the mystery girl was Hermione if not for that girl who lied to him up front. Perhaps Hermione wouldn't have kept the truth to herself if he had not been an arse and kissed that girl, the same who told him that he had spent the night with her_. He felt his anger and frustration rising to the fore and clambered off the couch. As his luck (or Careen's rotten luck) would have it, she chose that precise moment to enter through the portrait-hole followed by her friend.

"You!' he spat, covering the small distance between the couch and her in swift strides, "Come outside," he hissed, barely able to hold back his temper and shoved a sixth year boy aside as he left the common room.

Ron was standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady stomping his foot impatiently, arms folded at his chest when Careen finally climbed out of the hole. One glance and he knew that she had realised she was caught. Using almost all his strength to stop himself from yelling at her right there, he indicated for her to follow him.

They entered the first empty classroom they found, and Ron, avoiding closing the door, cast a Muffiliato around them instead.

"It'll be better you start speaking right away," he barked, not even caring that he would quite likely be cutting an intimidating figure, towering over her, raging mad.

"I-I-"

"BLOODY HELL! STOP STAMMERING! YOU FUCKING LIED TO ME!"

She staggered a few steps back and looked like on the verge of tears but Ron could not manage to draw out even an ounce of sympathy for her.

"I am not even sure why I am having this discussion with you! I should just let Hermione deal with you instead, or perhaps Ginny!"

Her eyes reflected her shock for a moment before she spoke up, "I really like you, Ron! I thought-"

" –You thought you could keep me away from Hermione by these filthy lies, did you? You- You-" he heaved, fury rendering him temporarily speechless and looked away. It was nothing but his Mum's teachings that was keeping him from hexing her into oblivion.

"You kissed me!" she retorted finally, teary but willing to stay in the fight and Ron flinched at the memory.

"And that was the biggest mistake of my life, and trust me, I have made some bad ones," he fumed.

He didn't know what he wanted to do next, okay, maybe he did. He wanted to hex her, only she was a girl and younger. Probably it was the best to let Ginny do the work for him. Still breathing heavily, he strode towards the door when she called back.

"Why do you want her anyway?" she cried, anguished and he ignored her. "She is _pregnant_ ," Careen added. It was hard to miss the disgust in her voice. He was next to her even before he realised. Careen backed a few steps and looked up at him, horrified.

"Don't you dare speak of Hermione or our baby that in that tone! I WILL NOT TOLERATE IT, DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?" She looked scared but defiant.

"How do you know that? She never said who the father is," she hissed back maliciously.

"I told you this is none of your fucking business!" he spat again, and this time she seemed to gulp hard and retreat further. He glared at her a moment longer before turning away to walk off again.

"What if she doesn't want you to be a part of her or her-your baby's life? She would have told you otherwise, wouldn't she?" she screeched, and Ron, knowing well that it was nothing but a desperate attempt on her part, slammed the door hard behind him as he walked off.

However, the last words stuck to him against his will.

...

Hermione was aching to drop her bag and grab a bite as she left the classroom on the second floor and trudged her way downstairs.

"Do you want me to carry your pack?" asked a fifth year Ravenclaw she had been tutoring, and she declined politely while thanking her at the same time. Some of her 'students' joined her as she went down two floors towards the Great Hall. She found Ginny already seated at the table, Ron and Harry were absent but she wasn't much in a state to ponder over their whereabouts yet. Dropping her bag next to her friend, she rushed off towards the girls' bathroom as fast as her six month pregnant body allowed. This was one side-effect of pregnancy she couldn't wait to be done with. But she was wise enough to know that she had three more months before that happened, and it would most likely only get worse.

Ten minutes later, she was one of the last to walk back towards the Great Hall. The long corridors were empty and she did not hurry this time, the empty stomach making her slightly nauseated. It was perhaps a stupid idea to coach the Owl students, she could have easily used that time to revise; the scholarship examination was barely three weeks away. Hermione sighed a little to herself, she had no clue it would get so exhausting. Between the classes, her reports, head girl duties, preparations for the N. E. W. Ts and the Main Entrance Examination, she had found little time to spend with her friends, even Ron. At least she had managed to submit all the preliminary papers that were required. The results of those were expected in a couple of days. Good score on them would hugely benefit her mains. She smiled a little to herself. Ron had been adorable though, staying up late with her every single night no matter how exhausted he was.

Her silent musings were disturbed by soft voices coming out of an empty classroom and had it been anyone but her two best friends, Hermione would not have bothered. She was almost at the door, ready to push it open when she heard something that stopped her in her tracks.

"Ron, why are we here discussing this? I mean, couldn't we have this discussion after I had my lunch?"

"No, Hermione would be there and I-I just wanted to chat with you before, well..."

Hermione knew she should have left right away. After all, Ron specifically wanted to have this conversation with Harry alone. But her curiosity got better of her and she stood rooted to the spot, hating herself but listening.

"Ron, you have been an incoherent mess for the past half an hour now."

"Well, okay...Yeah..." stammered Ron and she wondered what could be bothering him so much.

"I was just wondering... I mean, Hermione's is going to have a baby. Blimey..." he whispered softly and Harry scoffed.

"Good observation, Ron!" he managed somehow between his laughter.

"Shut up, Harry! I'm fucking serious here, mate. It's a fucking huge responsibility and a little daunting, to be honest..."

Hermione could almost picture him rubbing the back of his neck like he did when something bothered him. And it was evident from his voice that he was freaking out. Perhaps this was the reason why he was not willing to share this with her.

"We are not even out of our teens. Blimey, a baby! I mean I can hold Torrie, but she's not mine so I guess it's kinda okay. But, having my own kid at this age? Merlin's pants, that's mental!"

"Yeah I guess, it is a little scary," intoned Harry, sounding a little queasy himself.

"I mean... I am surprised that..." he mumbled and Hermione inched closer.

"What?"

"You know, Hermione is good. In fact, she's brilliant with her spell work and her potions. Her spells don't usually fail-"

"You mean the contraceptive spell?" Harry sure sounded very uncomfortable and Hermione felt the same. She was not sure why Ron would discuss this with Harry. But perhaps that was how guys talked among themselves.

"Yeah, I-" mumbled Ron again, so softly that she could barely hear him. She knew she ought to leave but she wanted to know what was bothering him so much.

"It feels weird to think of her that way because she is basically like my sister. But if it is like you know the guy you think, David, then she wouldn't be able to use magic, would she?"

Hermione missed out the rest of the statement, shocked to her core. She tried telling herself that Ron would have to imagine _someone,_ and David was perhaps the most likely answer. But what hurt her was that he had confided in Harry with the same, quite possibly even Ginny. And they had believed him. She rushed off then, not bothering to look back.

 _Had she stayed she would have heard the rest, heard the longing in Ron's words which surprised Harry but perhaps not much._

 _Ron paused, his face stoic at Harry's words. He exhaled and looked straight ahead like watching something unfold in the distance._

" _David's?" he muttered softly and Harry had no clue who he was questioning, perhaps himself._

" _But it'll still be great, wouldn't it? Having a baby, I mean," he asked with a lopsided smile in a voice that almost sounded like a wishful longing. "Weird, shit scary and barmy on a totally different level, yeah, but perhaps not altogether bad, eh? I mean... I really like babies... they are kind of squishy and totally breakable, I know but," he gulped hard, his Adam's apple bobbling._

" _And Hermione's baby... I bet she'll look exactly like her mother..." he added looking away. His expression morphed from confusion to determination as if he had finally figured out some answers. To what, Harry had no clue._

" _I need to talk to her," Ron declared before leaving the classroom quickly._

...

By the time she crossed the long corridor and entered the Hall, she had run over his words in her mind twice already. She knew what he meant now. He thought to have a baby was a crazy idea and the thought of owning that responsibility was scary. That was perhaps why he was cool about the idea that David fathered her child. It was no longer his responsibility that way. Sure, he could be a caring friend but minus the actual deal.

Her face was hard and stoic when she took her place next to Ginny.

"Are you alright?" her friend asked placing a caring hand on her wrist and she nodded, forcing a smile.

The boys joined them after a while, and she returned their greeting with only a small, forced smile before going back to her food. The baby kicked and she placed her hand on her swollen belly making up her mind.

"I need to talk to you all," she announced when they were almost done. All three of them turned at her curiously.

"Not here, in the Common Room," she finished and picked up her bag, avoiding Ron's gaze altogether.

...

Her announcement was met with shocked glances from Harry and Ginny while Ron looked enraged. He glared at her, jaws stiff nostrils flaring and she averted her eyes without as much as a flicker to look at Ginny instead.

"He was a student of my parents'," she provided, eager to finish her lie and run away somewhere else. "We met over the summer and –"

It was agonising and frustrating so she stopped. They wanted a name and she had given them one.

"That's all, I have to go to the library now," she finished and before they had wrapped their brains around her announcement she picked up her bag and walked out of the portrait hole.

"Woah," exclaimed Ginny and collapsed on the couch staring at Harry and her brother. Harry glanced at his girlfriend for a second before turning at his best mate. Ron was still glaring at the portrait-hole, his shoulders stiff, neck a dangerous shade of red.

"Mate?" he called carefully.

"She is lying."

Ginny met his eyes, arching her eyebrow a smidge and Harry exhaled soundly preparing mentally for the outburst he knew was coming. To be honest, though, he couldn't fathom Ron's anger. _Didn't the bloke conclude the same already?_

"Ron, look-"

"I told you, Harry! She is lying!" he spat, chest heaving.

"Ron, get a grip. Not like you didn't know this already!" barked Ginny, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. Harry couldn't help admire this fiery side of his girlfriend. He stopped himself before his brain took his thoughts elsewhere.

"Bloody hell! Why aren't you guys getting it?! Hermione is having MY baby!"

Stunned silence greeted the statement before Ginny started laughing hysterically. Ignoring Ron's fuming she turned gleefully at Harry, "Hah, I win, Potter!" she declared before wiping off tears of mirth and turned at her brother.

"Congratulations, Ron but Mum will kill you," she announced and Ron seemed to go pale for a moment before he collected his bearing.

"How do you know?" Harry asked finally, and Ron ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. "The antidote worked. It seems I was with her-" he finished suddenly, ears flaming.

"Go, talk to her," suggested Ginny and Ron, although looking at the path Hermione had taken a while back, stood on his spot, brows scrunched in contemplation.

"Why would she lie?" he asked no one in particular.

"The situations haven't been exactly in her favour so far."

"Yeah, right I know we fucked up, okay? But now? Why this false declaration suddenly? Not like we asked," he grumbled angrily.

"Only she has the answers, mate. You better go talk to her."

...

Ron caught up with her in the first-floor corridor.

"We need to talk," he declared walking alongside. To his immense displeasure, she didn't even bother to look at him.

"I have work," she replied dismissively and he saw red. Taking a quick stride he blocked her path and glared at her from his height. She stopped, held her chin up but continued to look resolutely at the left wall instead of him.

Exhaling soundly through his mouth he placed his hand on her wrist to guide her to an empty classroom but she jerked her hand away, finally meeting his eyes with unadulterated rage and hurt floating in those brown ones. She looked so small and vulnerable that his anger dissipated to give way to guilt instead.

"Please, Hermione?" he asked sincerely instead, shoving his hand deep into his pockets to avoid touching her. It hurt to think how she had pulled her hand away, but he had done enough damage already, hadn't he?

He was utterly thankful when she turned and pushed open their Charms classroom and plopped herself down on the nearest bench. Ron closed the door behind him, locking it for good measure before approaching her. He pulled the chair the professor used after transferring the huge pile of books that stood on it onto the teacher's desk, and sat on it facing her. Once again, she looked anywhere else but him. Ron wracked his brains for anything that he might have done recently to piss her off so much but came up with nothing. Perhaps it was all mood swings, he concluded.

"Why are you lying?" he asked carefully although he wasn't sure he could keep all the hurt out of his voice. She pretended not to have heard him and he sighed. She wasn't going to make it easy. He contemplated telling her that he remembered everything but Careen's words were still ringing in his ears. He hoped with all his might that Hermione wasn't trying to cut all his links with their child; the very thought was disturbing. That was strange; he wasn't even fully accustomed to idea of being a father yet.

"We had something between us before all of this, didn't we?" he asked in a quiet voice, wondering if she would continue to be aloof during the whole of the conversation. It wouldn't be much help that way.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

He was relieved to hear her voice at least. He reminded himself that she was carrying his baby and going through a mess of a time all by herself. She was allowed to be angry with him.

"Look at me," he pleaded. She continued to look away so he brought his hand to her face, touching a finger to her chin, lifting her face to meet her eyes but allowing the finger to linger on her skin. She stiffened at his touch but he didn't let go.

"Why are you doing this?" he breathed softly, his face close to hers, and he thought for a moment her face lost a bit of the anger before she seemed to catch herself and huffed indignantly.

"I'm doing nothing, now let me go," she responded.

"No," he replied, not rude but determined. "I'm not going anywhere till you stop lying, Hermione."

"I am NOT lying!" she spat through gritted teeth and pushing his hand away, stood up.

"Really?" he asked beginning to feel his temper rise again. Why was she being so stubborn?

"Are you implying I don't know who fathered my child, Ron?" she hissed glaring hard at him.

"Are you barking mad?!" he retorted loudly. "I am doing nothing of the sort! I am just-"

"Do you have any other candidate who you think I slept with?"

He paused, trying his level best to control the rage that was burning through him. He wanted to shake her to bring her to her senses. Hermione didn't seem to have a clue what she was saying.

"Just. Shut. The. Fuck. Up." he managed taking deep steadying breaths.

"Don't you dare, Ron!" she cried. "I needed someone to get pregnant, didn't I? Just spit out who you think it could be."

 _Me._

He exhaled watching her. He knew she was challenging him and the answer was simple really. But what he was afraid of was her denial. What if she still insisted that the child was David's? He would be in no position to refute her claim and she would successfully cut him out of her and their baby's life forever. Would his heart be able to bear that? _No_ , most certainly not. He couldn't risk messing this up. Her lie was limited to Ginny and Harry but for now, what could he do if she made it public? Nothing; nothing at all without damaging her reputation further.

He played his answer just like he would in chess.

"I don't know anything about one whole night of my life, how would I know about yours?" he asked carefully and very much in control. She faltered for a second and he noticed the calculative look in her eyes. He held her gaze challenging her back, hating that he had to make things so difficult. But she wasn't making it easy for him either.

"I am telling you that it was David," she insisted and turned away. The next time she spoke her words were icy and biting. "This is _my_ life, Ron, and _my_ baby. You've been a friend and a wonderful one at that. But _this_ is my responsibility, only mine. I can take care of it myself. It's not your problem."

He wasn't sure if he had it in him to mask the hurt but she was looking away anyway. Her rebuttal had killed off any chance of reconciliation. Perhaps he had messed up more than he thought. Perhaps she was already writing to this David and finding solace in his letters. How would he know?

"Alright, so I am just a 'friend' for you now?" _Not even her best friend, just a friend. Yeah, his life was perfect,_ he thought sarcastically. She did not bother to reply and he chuckled mirthlessly to himself.

"Fine, if that is what you want."

Without waiting for a response he walked away. He left the castle and stopped only once he reached the Quidditch grounds.

 **...**

Hermione sat on the battered old couch in the Common Room. Her back was killing her but she had to finish revising her notes. Ginny and Harry sat at a nearby table working on their essays. Ron was engrossed in a fat volume of Defence Against the Dark Arts. He had not asked anything about David after that disastrous conversation in the afternoon a couple of days ago. But he was still around and caring just as before, maybe even more. She could no longer figure out if she was angrier with him or herself for messing it all up. But whatever be the case, it was done now. She had made her declaration and had no other option but to stick to it. The twins seemed to be still struggling with the antidote. Hermione was beginning to lose hope of Ron ever getting to know. Who knew, perhaps it was all for the best. Her results for the preliminary tests gave her a good chance for the Mains. that, she told herself, was the only thing she needed to worry about. That and her N. E. W. Ts

She flipped through the last page and dropping the finished set next to her, stretched sideways to retrieve her sling bag when the annoyingly familiar pain shot through her calf. Letting out a small whimper and pressing her lips together to cut off further sounds she reached down to massage her leg but someone beat her to it.

" _What do you think you are doing?"_ she gasped too shocked to even stop him. Ron pretended to not have heard. Sitting down on the floor at her foot, he placed one hand under her leg while gently running his thumb down her leg starting at her knee.

"Being a good friend," he replied casually, not even looking half flustered as she was while many pairs of eyes were drawn to them. "You have a cramp, don't you?"

"Yes, but -"

"No 'buts'. Just shut up and relax," he admonished softly and began working his way on her muscles. She couldn't deny it felt good, great in fact. The stiffness eased under his expert ministrations. His fingers were calloused, just like she remembered from that night months ago.

"Ron, everyone's watching," she muttered softly, trying a little to get him to release her but his hold was strong, firm but gentle at the same time.

"So?" he inquired, not taking his eyes away from the work at hand.

"So, you probably shouldn't be doing this." Hermione hated how her voice shook. The cramp was all gone and a pleasurable tingle ran where he touched her.

"I'm just taking care of my _best frien_ d," he insisted.

"But..."

"Close your eyes and relax," he instructed in a voice that washed over her. It was spoken so softly that only she could hear him. Instead of following it however, she allowed herself to take in the sight in front of her. His hair glowed at the edges, a fiery red in the light coming from the fireplace. She couldn't see his face clearly as he sat with his back towards the flames, but she could make out the muscles of those broad shoulders and felt a familiar yet long forgotten stirring deep in her womb.

"Better?" he asked.

"Y-Yes, how do you know this?"

"I play Quidditch, I mean I am not great but I thought you'd remember. Cramps are nothing new to us."

His hand moved upwards to the sensitive spot behind her knee, skin no longer covered by her socks and the gentle touch of his fingers threw her senses into a frenzy. As her vision threatened to get hazy, she swallowed hard before struggling to move away.

"It's fine now," she said even more flustered noticing that he was watching her.

He let her go right away and getting up dropped himself on his earlier spot, the book opened on his lap again.

...

February came along bringing nothing but more misery to the already struggling seventh years. With the work-pile shooting practically through the roof, Harry and Ron were struggling to keep pace with every new assignment the professors handed them out at the end of each class. Ron was sure by the end of the year, he would get a permanent crick in his neck or his fingers would fall off with all the writing he did. But they were still better off than Hermione. She had been practically living in the library for a week before her Law School Entrance examinations. And now, she made up for that week and the one day when she was away by once again spending most of her time buried with half the books of the school owned. Ron was worried sick about her and furious with himself for having drawn that drama for so long. She still had no clue he had regained his memories but he hoped she saw him in better light than before. At least, he was trying to prove to her that he was serious about his future and could be a responsible parent. He read over the insanely complex potion instructions for the third straight time before closing the book with a snap and leaning back to rest his aching spine. The Auror Program only recruited new interns by August. To qualify they needed good N. E. W. T scores first which would then allow them to apply for the physical fitness examination in July. He wasn't concerned about the PE part but N. E. W. Ts was a different story. He glanced one more at the portrait hole to check for her before returning back to his book.

"She will be late today, Ron," Harry said dropping the book on the table and standing up to stretch himself. "The results are supposed to arrive today, remember?"

Ron did a double take. _Blimey, it was the 24_ _th_ _!_

"Fuck! I forgot! She'd be at McGonagall's office, won't she?" he asked, keeping aside his books urgently.

"Yeah, that's what she said. Where are you off to?" he called for Ron was already on his way.

"To McGonagall's office of course!" he responded before rushing out of the door.

...

Ron had barely reached the corridor on the fourth floor when he saw her coming; eyes downcast, shoulders slumped and the sling hanging loosely over her heavily pregnant form.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at his voice before averting her eyes and wiping off the tears on her sleeve. Sniffing soundly she came to a stop.

"Didn't make it."

Ron's heart ached at her voice. He was beside her in a heartbeat. Placing an arm around her shoulder he held her free hand in his other one.

"Let's go to the dorm, you look tired."

"I don't want to," she mumbled and extracting herself from his grip, turned around to walk the opposite way. He followed behind and it was only after she paused in a particular corridor on the seventh floor that he realised where she wanted to be.

She opened the wooden door that materialised on her third pass and he contemplated giving her a few minutes to herself. However, she kept the door ajar and he followed inside.

It was a small room. It had nothing more than a couch and an ottoman both of which faced a fire burning merrily in the grate.

Hermione dropped her bag on the floor next to the couch and slumped down on it. Lying down on her side she pulled a cushion and hugged it close to herself. So far, Ron had been standing next to the door, contemplating if she even wanted him there but as muffled sounds of her sobs reached his ears, he shut the door behind and walked quickly to her. Kneeling down in front of her, Ron placed a hand gingerly on her shoulder. He couldn't see her face as it was buried in the cushion but her body shook with the efforts of holding back her cries.

"Hey, it's okay. You can apply for it again next year, I'm sure you'll crack it-"

She threw away the cushion and sat up and Ron shifted back in shock at the anger that was emanating from her. Wiping off the tears on her sleeve she continued to scowl. It seemed as if she was holding back from lashing at him but barely so.

"I didn't fail!" she screeched suddenly and he was taken aback. Then why the heck did she say-

She chocked back on an angry sob and looked at him accusingly, "They said I had too much 'responsibilities' and I couldn't possibly cope with the pressure of the course in my 'situation'. They were not eager to fund a student who might leave the course midway bogged down by 'personal commitments'!

It took Ron a minute to gather his thoughts, "So you passed but they didn't give you admission because you are pregnant?!" he asked incredulously.

"No, Ron, they did not give me a totally deserving scholarship because I am going to be a single parent. They are not willing to invest in my education because I have no family backup and run a risk of leaving my course midway to care for my child!" she finished in a rage.

"What moronic panel of judges is this?"

"Hah, they said I was welcome to join the college if I could fund my own education." She wiped off her eyes and bit her lower lip even as more tears rolled down.

"Actually it is a group of patriarchal, misogynistic males that run the show. They were mortified to know that I was pregnant out of wedlock. And more when I said I had no plans of a wedding. They even had the audacity to ask me what my 'fiancé' thought and if he is a wizard! How is it even relevant to the interview? These are just excuses. If I can crack this while being pregnant and while preparing for my N. E. W. Ts, how hard will it be for me to complete the course?"

Ron sighed softly before occupying the ottoman.

"So all you need is a name, someone who can take the responsibility of the child, and they will be okay?" he inquired haltingly, not taking his eyes off her.

"Yes, but I won't do that. It is not important. I can take care of my baby. I don't even want to go to this stupid college," she replied stubbornly.

"If all you need is a name, give them the name. Then let's see how they hold back your scholarship."

"No," she replied.

Ron was infuriated. How obstinate could she be? It was one thing not considering him good enough, quite the other spoiling her entire career just to keep him away from their child.

She looked at him, her breathing coming in small gasps. A part of him told him he should be the one to keep a cool head, and such temper couldn't be good for her health. But he was tired, exhausted to the core. He had been trying his best and all Hermione did was push him away for no reason at all.

"Tell David," he challenged, fury rising easily in the drained out state he was in. "You must have told him of your pregnancy, haven't you? Tell him you need to name him."

She looked like he had slapped her; had she forgotten her own lie? "I-I can't," she mumbled.

"Why? He is the father, isn't he?"

He watched her fumbling and chuckled mirthlessly to himself. "Tell Dumbledore and McGonagall. All they want is a name. Tell them he's a muggle and you'll wed soon. Get your admission, finish your course."

"I-"

"Tell them, Hermione. The baby will still be only yours."

"I TOLD YOU I CAN'T!" she screeched, standing up and almost stomping her foot while Ron continued to sit and watch her.

"Fine," he replied.

...

It was precisely a week later that Hermione left Dumbledore's office, raging mad. Heaving and trying hard to control her anger she flicked her wand causing a bright otter to spring out. As it twisted beautifully mid-air and floated away to pass on her message, she made her way towards the familiar painting on the seventh floor.

Barely ten minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the door before the knob turned and the tall ginger walked in.

"WHAT IS THIS?" she spat brandishing an official envelope in front of his face.

He looked at the official document and her and sat down on the couch totally unfazed.

"WHAT IS THIS, RON?" she yelled again and this time he looked at her coldly.

"If I am not wrong, it's something you've been waiting for: the acceptance letter from Law College based on the outcome of your N. E. W. T results obviously. But that shouldn't be a problem for you."

"WHY? YOU- YOU-"

"Yes?"

"You had no right-"

"No right to do what exactly?"

"You told them-"

"I told them the baby is mine. I told them that I am an aspiring Auror, who is also recruited with the Quality Quidditch Supplies post schooling and am partly responsible for childcare. Hence, by their own terms, they have no right to reject your application."

"Why?!" she cried and Ron had no clue why she was still fighting. Wasn't the cat out of the bag already?

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's simple. Your score is the highest in a very long time. They had nothing but some stupid medieval notions to refuse your scholarship. Now they have no reason not to give you the scholarship."

"You haven't answered me yet. Why would you do this for me?" she insisted, watching him as if searching for some answers.

"Why do you think?" He held her gaze waiting for her to find the answers she was looking for. For a minute he thought he had broken her shell. He thought she would stop being so obstinate and see him, see the truth. He had spent a whole bloody weekend talking to the Headmaster and running up and down the Diagon Alley to find himself a job. He had earned one whole months worth of detentions from their Head of House for not having owned up earlier; one whole fucking month when he would be scrubbing trophies or cleaning stinking potion cauldrons instead of preparing for his N. E. W. Ts which he had to crack with good grades to get into the Academy, and she was still doubting him?

"I don't need your sympathy Ron, I –"

The rage intensified so much at her words that he left his seat to stand in front of her, struggling to steady his breath and hold back from screaming.

" _Sympathy?!_ " he barked.

"What else is it?" she yelled back standing too. "You think it's foolish to have a baby in our age! Why would you even want to get into this mess?" she cried indignantly and Ron chucked all self control out of the window and grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Why are you so hell bent on shoving me out of your life?! What else do you want me to do to prove my worth?"

"I am not shoving you out of my life! I am just-"

"You are just LYING! That's what you are doing! That's what you have been doing for months!" he released her from his grip, trying hard to get his erratic breathing to normalise again.

"I am not lying!" she provided unconvincingly.

" _Really?"_ He laughed bitterly. "Tell me then, when did you sleep with David, Hermione?"

"RON!"

"You keep saying the baby is his, so tell me when did you sleep with him? Was it before or after the night of the Bash? It can't be before because I distinctly remember _it was I who was your first. You were a virgin when I made love to you._ "

Her face lost all colour at his words, his ears were burning too.

"Since when do you know?" she asked quietly, lips quivering and cheeks flushing enticingly. Ron decided he hated his heart for being so madly in love with her.

"I've known for a while."

"And you still didn't tell me?" she complained.

" _Did you?_ You've known it all along, Hermione! You saw me driving myself crazy trying to remember something and you never told me anything! And if you must know, I intended to tell you the first day when I found out. But you went ahead and declared that you are having David's baby! How do you expect me to feel? What –"

"You found out! Of course you did! And you thought it was foolish to have a baby at our age! You think it's a huge responsibility. Of course it's easy when it's your niece but you wouldn't have one of your own!"

"Of course I was freaked out, woman! Weren't you when you found out?! But that never meant that I don't want her! Accept it Hermione, you regret having my baby. You regret sleeping with me. You think I am not good or responsible enough to be a father. I still wonder why you allowed me to-" he gulped, "Perhaps it was the alcohol, wasn't it?" he chuckled bitterly.

She slapped him hard, the sound reverberating in the small room.

"Yes, you moron! It was all a joke! That is why I am killing myself and fighting everyone to keep her!" she cried back furiously indicating her bulging abdomen. "Do you even remember what you said the night after the Bash? You said you were drunk and were sorry for the 'mistake'! What was I suppose to make of it? And how was I suppose to tell you I conceived on the night which was obviously a 'drunken mistake' for you?!"

"For Merlin sake, woman I was drugged! I accept it looked bad from where you stood but you eventually found out that I had actually forgotten, didn't you! How can you hold on to those words still? I had no fucking clue! And I tried and tried but you still treated me like a piece of dirt!"

"I didn't believe it, okay?! And when I wanted to tell you, you were busy snogging that girl!" she half sobbed half-yelled and Ron lost a bit of steam against his will.

"Yeah, she lied to me. She used my amnesia to convince me that I had spent that night with her," he explained in a quieter voice, looking away.

"And you believed her?!"

"I didn't know, did I? She knew which room I was in... And I was ashamed to tell you, felt guilty in fact..." He looked at her eyes to notice the sadness in them.

"How did you not realise it was us, Ron?" she asked in a softer voice and he smiled a little sadly.

"How would I know, Hermione? All I remembered was that I was still working up the courage to tell you about my feelings... How would my poor drug addled brain know that I had found all that I have ever dreamt of that one night and forgotten it all too?"

She chuckled sadly before collapsing on the couch.

"I was so angry... I was waiting to tell you everything that morning at Fortescue's. But your words hurt me so much that I made up that story about going with David to hurt you back."

"I knew about your pregnancy the night you found out," he added quietly. "I-I heard bits and wrongly assumed that the father was a muggle."

"Eavesdropping is pretty harmful, isn't it?" she chuckled.

"Yeah." he took his place next to her, aching to hold her as those brown orbs looked up at him.

"Hermione, I know this is not the time for you to go through this but I promise, if you allow me to, I'll do everything I can to be with you through this."

She pressed her lips together muffling a sob and nodded her head as tears cascaded down her eyes. "I am so tired fighting all this by myself, Ron..." she confessed finally and Ron wasted no time in pulling her into his arms.

* * *

 **A/N:** Good lord, this is an enormous chapter. The next one will be the last one for this story. But I have decided to write a five chapter fic as a follow up to show their life after the baby arrives. It will technically be the 11th chapter, although I'll just put it up as a different story under the Romance/Family genre, which means it will also be readable as a standalone fic. Thank you all for sticking with me through this and keeping me motivated with your reviews!

 **P.S:** The **Romione Awards 2016** final Nomination list is now up on **Tumblr**. I feel flattered to see three of my stories nominated ( **In Search of Hermione** , **A Pesky Little Thought** and **Everything's Fair in Love and War** ), along with a bunch of super amazing works. Do head out to Tumblr for the entire list and show us authors some love by voting for your favourites when the voting lines open. (send me a PM if you need the links)

Also, A new **Romione Smut Drabble Fest** is coming up on Tumblr from March 1st. Interested authors can head over to the blog **RomioneQuickieFest** for further details. They are looking for fresh one-shots(1000words) and Drabbles(700 words) and the ten categories are already put up on their page. Head over to Tumblr for some smutty Romione goodness :) I will be taking part in it too, although I am not sure if I'll post those stories here on FFN as they are sure to be pretty explicit. You'll be able to read them on my Tumblr profile once the competition gets over.


	10. Homecoming

**Chapter 10: Homecoming**

The sound of the slap reverberated in the small room and all eyes were immediately on him.

" _Ronald Weasley! How dare you!_ "

His mother's anger had acquired that dangerously high pitch beyond which she would be almost inaudible, but from experience, Ron knew, all the more frightening for it. He lowered his eyes, his knees hurting and scraping against the wooden floor, and resisted the urge to run his hand over his smarting cheek which was surely displaying her handprint now.

His mother continued to glare at him, rendered speechless with fury by the looks of it, and breathing so deeply through her nose that it made her entire body shake. Ron wished his father was present too, not because he would help cool his mother down, but because Ron would at least be done with his confessions.

"I am so ashamed of you!" she snapped after a while, and he met her eyes and nodded slightly to indicate his understood and was apologetic. Too angry to perhaps even look at him, she huffed and left the chair she had been occupying to move away before wheeling back at him again.

" _You got that girl pregnant and did not even have the decency to man up all these months?!_ " He heard a small disappointed murmur behind them before his sister took pity on him.

"Mum," began Ginny but was stopped short before she could speak any further. At least, his sister tried.

"I'm sorry," he exhaled as he stood up too, standing a little away, head hanging.

He hoped his mother knew him enough to understand that he was really sorry, especially after seeing Hermione in that state a while ago. He didn't like to think that he was the cause of her pain, but he was.

Drawing his eyes to his mother, he allowed her to see him, see the plea if she would. It was no longer about him but her.

"I-" she began once more and he wasn't sure if the softening of her eyes was even real when Lily Potter called her urgently from the landing.

"Molly, you better come upstairs, quick. Ginny, you too."

He was almost halfway up the steps when he was stopped by none other than the Weasley matriarch herself.

"Where do you think you are going?" she snapped, huffing as she pushed him aside to climb up.

"To her," he responded promptly. His mum could be angry all she wanted, but nothing, not even her temper could stop him from seeing Hermione.

"You've done enough, Ron!" she glared and for once he glared right back.

"I have to see her, Mum!" he declared and his mother paused, ready for another rebuke when Ginny gently grabbed his wrist.

"Mum, just go," she said before turning towards him. As the woman clambered upstairs quickly, he huffed at his sister and jerked his hand away, making to follow behind her. But Ginny blocked his path again.

"Gin. Move," he hissed, hanging onto the last strands of his control but she shook her head in negative and surprising him completely, rubbed his shoulders in a pacifying manner as her eyes met his in understanding.

"I know you are worried, Ron, but this will not help Hermione," she said softly.

"I need to see her," he pleaded hoping at least his sister would understand.

"I know," she replied earnestly, rubbing his knuckles gently with her hand, "And I promise, I'll talk to Mum, but you know Madame Pomfrey is checking her now. Everyone is worried-" she trailed off, glancing back in the direction of the room and sighed tiredly before meeting his eyes again.

"Will you be there?" he begged. "With her?"

"Yes, I will," she promised and patted his hand before hurrying upstairs.

Standing in the middle of the staircase, Ron rubbed his tired eyes before gripping his hair in frustration. This was not supposed to be like this.

"Come on, mate."

He realised that he had not even registered Harry standing next to him all this time. As he reached the foot of the stairs, he took in all the faces huddled in the small living space in Fred and George's small Hogsmeade cottage. Ignoring their questioning glances, he turned away to take his place on the dining table, pouring himself a cup of tea from the kettle that was still sitting on the stove. He took a sip, hoping the hot liquid would sooth his nerves a little.

This was not supposed to be like this.

She had been looking forward to this small break. She was nervous but happy that the Weasleys, the Potters, the Lupins and even Sirius had planned to have dinner together at Hogsmeade so that she could attend it without having to travel too much in her state. The small two-storied cottage had been bought by the twins not too long ago for their parents, and Molly had suggested inaugurating their new home during Easter.

Hermione had convinced Ron that they would tell his parents the truth during this break. They deserved to know, she had said, and he had agreed, obviously. He would have told them back in March itself if she had not insisted on telling them in person. He would have gladly announced in the Great Hall that he was the father of her unborn child if she had allowed him to. But she didn't, said they were not answerable to anyone except the family, and that everyone would eventually get to know anyway. And announcing would only increase gossip. But the word had spread nonetheless, in ways only possible in school corridors and classrooms. Harry said it was the way they looked at each other, Ginny declared Careen had been the source (to revenge the permanent acne that had sprung up on her face to spell 'liar') but whatever be the case, the halls were once again filled with murmurs of Hermione's name, this time entwined with his.

Ron never kissed her in public, or even when they were just by themselves. The physical aspect of their relationship was in quite an awkward stage, to be honest. The only intimate moment they had shared seemed a lifetime ago now, and if it had not been for her heavily pregnant form, his brain would have made him believe that it was one of his most memorable dreams.

However, he did hold her hand as they walked, and draped an arm around her when she was tired. And it wasn't just that. He did all he could be there for her, with her.

Within a few days of their resolution, he had begun to hear murmurs in the corridors and in the classes. Some students declared that they always knew the baby was his, some were surprised. Even the news of his temporary amnesia which had been treated as nothing more than a joke back in September was brought into the discussions. Some seem to believe, some others, like the Slytherins, said it was all a facade and that Ron was just acting all noble now and owning responsibility for a baby that was not even his. Malfoy and his gang did not use the word 'noble', they said 'pathetic'. He wanted to beat each one of them into a pulp and would have done so if not for Hermione.

He glanced upstairs and contemplated trying to get a glimpse of her once again, and then he drank some more tea to get a grip on his jittery nerves.

...

 _One hour ago_

When the four of them arrived a couple of hours post lunch, the Potters were already there and so were Bill, Fleur and Torrie. Percy and Audrey, his girlfriend, had arrived not too long ago. His father, the Lupins and Sirius were on the way, they were told, and the twins were to arrive after they closed shop.

All was fine. Greetings and hugs were exchanged, and then, Hermione needed to go to the loo. She had trudged up the steps and he had followed just a step behind to ensure he could hold her if need be. Once upstairs, she had looked uncomfortable.

"Anything wrong?" he asked, worried, and she placed a hand on her swollen abdomen and smiled, albeit a little tiredly.

"Just a little queasy, nothing to bother," she told him before walking into the loo as he placed her small bag in one of the two bedrooms. She opened the bathroom door just a smidge not a moment later.

"Ron, will you please call, Ginny?" she asked looking particularly disturbed. Barely holding back the urge to push open the door to see for himself, he yelled for his sister and waited with mounting anxiety as Ginny rushed up the steps and entered the small room, shutting the door behind her. Again, she poked her head out in no time, looking very pale.

"Ron! Call Mum, and Harry's mum too," she instructed through the door and, "Hurry, Ron!" she barked when he took a moment too long to respond.

He practically flew down the steps. The ladies, who were busy setting up the table while enjoying the chat, had dropped everything and rushed upstairs. Ron had too and Harry had followed behind. He had almost fainted out of shock when they levitated Hermione's writhing form out of the bathroom onto a stretcher and into the room.

"What is happening?!" he barked trying to force into the room which, to his immense displeasure, he found locked from inside, all the while struggling to rid himself of Harry's grip.

"One of you get Madame Pomfrey, now!" Lily Potter instructed furiously as she came out a minute later and gave some rapid directions to Ginny who went flying down the steps and passed on the message to Fleur. His eldest sister-in-law passed Torrie to Audrey and disappeared with a pop. The boys who had followed Ginny stood at the foot of the staircase, totally baffled and extremely worried till Ginny shoved them aside on her way upstairs before coming back once again. A loud pop sounded and Fleur appeared at the foot of the staircase holding, what seemed to be a large pile of freshly laundered linen. She rushed upstairs without a backwards glance.

"What is happening?" he bellowed as the rest of them inquired the same from Ginny.

"Hermione has gone into labour," she declared, gulping hard and pulling out Merlin knew what from the recently stocked kitchen. Her announcement was met with gasps and mutterings that made no sense to him.

"Hermione has gone where?" he asked incredulously and Ginny paused to give him a very exasperated look.

"She has gone into labour, Ron!" she replied again, and apparently noticing his blank look, threw her hand up in frustration, "The baby is coming, you idiot!"

And he felt like an idiot all right. _How could the baby be coming so soon? It was only the 12th of April; Hermione said the date was 9th of May!_

"But this is way too early!" he yelled at his sister who was already halfway upstairs once again.

"Tell your baby that when she arrives!" she yelled back. "And fetch Madame Pomfrey, someone!

He turned towards the grate to Floo out only to find the school nurse scrambling out herself, extremely worried. She was followed by Bill who was holding an enormous medical box. He felt terribly foolish and useless. Hermione was having his baby and all he was doing was standing in the middle of the kitchen, trying his best to find his bearings.

...

Ron took another sip, momentarily surprised to find the cup empty. The only sounds were soft murmurs coming from the living area next to the kitchen cum dining room where he sat. He could hear Harry's voice, perhaps his best friend was filling his brothers on the happenings, he didn't know. And he didn't care either. He ignored the sound of the front door opening, keeping his ears trained on any noise from the floor above; all was unnaturally silent. He could only hope she was fine.

The scraping of a chair broke his musings and he looked up and then scrambled up the chair hurriedly as his father's grim face came into view.

"Sit, Ronnie," he exhaled tiredly, and Ron occupied his chair once more, craving for a hot cup of tea that he could wrap his fingers around.

"I'm sorry," he managed, not quite sure he wanted to see the disappointment in those eyes. He almost craved for his father to react the way his mum had, anything was better than this silence.

"Dad-"

"I'm sure you have an explanation for keeping us in dark for so long,"

"Yes, I-I do, Dad,"

He glanced up once to see that his father was waiting, at least giving him a chance to explain. He glanced once more at the staircase and began.

...

"Mrs Weasley!" Hermione gasped as the intensity of the contraction increased. She couldn't believe that the mild discomfort from an hour ago had already turned into an aching pain, like having a horrible toothache.

"Try to relax, Hermione, the next few hours will be demanding," instructed Lily Potter.

She kept breathing deeply as the nurse had instructed but kept her eyes on the plump woman who was busy arranging the room that would soon be the place where she would have her baby.

"Molly, please?" she called again, and this time, the elderly witch sighed and took her space next to the bed, holding her hand in hers.

"Please don't be angry," she beseeched, closing her eyes for a moment to bite back the pain. It was getting stronger.

Molly shook her head sadly, apparently still lost for words. Hermione was glad that she had at least stopped grumbling angrily about Ron and how disgusted she was with him. She had tried to explain but the baby had been twisting painfully inside her at that moment making the task absolutely impossible. She was barely holding back her screams, getting through the painful jolts by gripping Ginny's hands tightly. It was hard to say how long she would be able to do it, though.

"We owe you an explanation," she said when she could manage. Molly didn't respond and Hermione took the opportunity to tell her everything the best she could, of course glossing over the details. She was Ron's mum after all.

"He was drugged?" she asked finally and Hermione was glad when Ginny took over telling her how it was an accident, and how he had got back his memories only a couple of months back.

Any response from Molly was cut short as one mighty contraction gripped her, and this time, Hermione couldn't hold back her scream.

...

As Hermione's cries reached them, Ron rushed out of his seat, white as a sheet. Before he could reach the stairs, however, Fleur appeared in the kitchen with a loud pop and flipped through the pantry, retrieved something and disappeared again. He groaned aloud and took the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"OPEN THE FU-"

The door opened before he finished his expletive and Lily Potter, looking worse than he had ever seen her, appeared.

"Ron, please go downstairs," she urged firmly.

"I WON'T TILL YOU LET ME SEE HER!" he cried jerking his hand away from Bill's grip.

"Take him downstairs," Lily instructed his brother.

"How's Hermione?" Bill asked.

"The baby hasn't turned and her contractions are getting stronger. She won't be able to deliver if the baby is not in a correct position. Poppy is waiting for the right time to cast the position correcting spell but," she sighed, "it'll be very painful for Hermione. And the baby is a little before time too."

"Take him downstairs," she said again indicating Ron.

Ron could have collapsed and sobbed on the floor. He had never heard Hermione scream that way and it seemed the worst was not yet over.

"Ron," called Lily kindly, "She'll be fine. Trust us. You are not helping by being so restless. Hermione is getting very anxious with you yelling like this. She needs to relax, okay?"

He nodded and pushing Bill out of the way, dragged himself down the steps to collapse on the couch. Harry sat next to him looking very sick and his Dad patted his knee. Hermione's screams echoed louder twice more before the room was Silenced.

...

Ron was sure the next ten hours were his worst ever. The women came down one at a time. Ginny looked dreadful and the dinner was silent with the anxiety palpable in the air. Lupin and Tonks carried away three-year-old Teddy who was getting very restless, and Sirius and James went back after dinner. Bill took Torrie home while Fleur stayed back. Percy left for his flat as the space in the cottage was far too less for so many but Audrey remained, helping with the dinner and then conjuring sleeping bags on the floor for the rest. The ladies took time off one at a time in the other bedroom. Ron found Harry dozing off in an odd angle on the chair, his father was on the couch, sleeping with his glasses still on. The twins had collapsed on the sleeping bags and snoring softly, but sleep was nowhere in sight for him.

Around two in the morning the house was rustled awake.

"The baby is coming!" announced Audrey before rushing upstairs.

...

"Ron?" called Ginny from upstairs and he rushed without looking back.

The door was finally open and he walked in slowly as if in a daze. His eyes sought her first. Hermione was lying on the bed, covered till her chest in a clean sheet, her hair a mess and eyes exhausted but looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She smiled at him, her cheeks blushing and he took swift strides to be next to her and wrapped her in his arms, breathing as if for the first time in a long while.

"Careful, she is still too weak."

He looked up to see his mother, her eyes glistening as she placed a small bundle in Hermione's arms. And he watched dumbstruck as she let out a tiny sob and pulled the cloth off the bundle's face.

A small face appeared. Orange hair that looked as soft as cotton candy and blue eyes looked up at him. She looked nothing like the chubby babies, was way too tiny and looked extremely fragile, but Ron realised he was hopelessly in love.

"She looks just like Ron did when he was born." The two of them looked up to find teary but beaming Molly Weasley; she never took her eyes off her grandchild.

"Does this mean Ron is off the hook?" chuckled Harry and grinned from ear to ear as their eyes met.

"No," replied Molly sternly but without the anger from before.

Hours later, Ron sat next to Hermione and watched the little one sleeping peacefully in a cot that was brought down from Bill's.

"Ten minutes, Ron and you must leave," announced Molly from the next room and Hermione chuckled. Ron shook his head exasperatedly before taking her hand in his. She was resting against him, her hand held in his.

He had so much to say but had no clue where to begin. "I love you," he murmured bringing her fingers to his lips and touching them tenderly.

"I love you too, Ron," she whispered.

"Thank you," he told her, "She is beautiful..." he whispered, still awestruck at the small human sleeping peacefully in the cot.

She laughed, the sound bringing a smile to his lips. "Because she looks like you?" she asked.

"Yeah, that that too," he grinned before lowering his voice. "Because, you brought her into this world, despite everything."

He watched her, love pouring out of her very being and realised he was insane about this girl. Inching his face close to hers, he gently touched his lips to hers as his hand wrapped around her and pull her close. There was a sharp intake of breath and he released her immediately, ready to call help.

She forced a smile, but he could see she was still hurting.

"I'll be okay," she managed, trying her best to sound casual and he pulled her to him, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder, running his fingers gently over her knuckles.

"How will we manage, Ron?" she asked after a long time; he had assumed she had dozed off.

"Mum and Dad will stay here for a while, till our N.E. W. Ts get over," he told her, she nodded and he could feel her tense.

"And after that, well learn to manage. We'll be okay, I promise."

"It will be hard, Ron."

"I know, but we'll manage, I promise."

"Where will we stay?"

"Here. Fred and George owe us that much,"

"But-"

"No buts, they told me themselves. And we'll work out something to pay them back."

"And your parents? They got this place for them..."

"Mum and Dad will not move out of the Burrow. This place was supposed to be for the holidays only."

"Ron?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I'm scared."

He sighed. "Me too..." he confessed.

"What have you decided to name her?" he asked after a while.

The answer was cut short by a sharp cry from the cot and his mother appeared so fast that Ron was sure she Apparated. She picked up the little one from the cot, cooing softly and handed Hermione the baby.

"She's hungry," she announced, voice dripping with adoration till she turned at her youngest son. "Ron, out!" she announced and he picked himself off the bed quickly.

"By the way, what have you decided to name her, dear?" he heard his mother ask when he was almost at the door. He turned around just in time to find Hermione meet his eyes. She ran her finger over the small crystal roses hanging on the thin chain around her neck.

"Rose," she replied smiling at him.

 _Fin_

* * *

 _ **A/N:** This brings us to the end of this story. As promised, I will write a short sequel for this which will show how they move from being teenage parents to an actual couple. I hope you have enjoyed this story, and thank you to all of you who have spared the time to drop me a line and/or added this to your alerts/favourites._

 _I look forward to hearing your opinions about this now that it is complete. Stay tuned for more stories coming your way._

 _Thanks to each and everyone for reading 3_


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